Dogs of War
by crowlow
Summary: Aizen Sousuke and his army of Arrancar have been defeated, and the only surviving Espada is Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez- or so everyone believed. When Abarai Renji meets the rogue Primera, Coyote Starrk, he slowly learns that the two of them have much more in common than he ever would have thought. Originally posted Feb. 22nd, 2010 @ my livejournal. Sequel to Smoke & Mirrors. m/m slash!
1. Chapter 1

Abarai Renji didn't learn until the third visit that the Vizard had an ex-Espada with them. He and Hisagi Shuuhei had been on a routine mission in the Living World, and when Ichigo decided to see his half-hollow buddies, the two seated shinigami went with him. At the time Hisagi had seemed pretty gung-ho about the whole thing, which, all things considered, hadn't surprised Renji in the slightest. They'd known each other long enough that he'd long since heard the story behind Hisagi's tattoo, and after the war the man had told him, anxiously, that he'd seen its inspiration during battle. _In the flesh. _

What a shock that must have been for the scarred shinigami. At first he had honestly believed he was simply delirious from blood loss.

Of course once they got there, Renji had immediately picked out which Vizard it was. It hadn't been hard at all, considering the man's taken aback expression when his amber eyes saw that infamous tattoo. They didn't speak directly in front of the others, but there was no denying the unspoken familiarity between them; like secrets being passed with every sidelong glance. The tattooed lieutenant had been insanely curious afterward, and badgered Hisagi relentlessly as to the details of their private little reunion (if they had even had one at all). But Hisagi, tight-lipped bastard that he was, had merely shrugged him off inflexibly. At that Renji could only frown softly, because trying to force info out of _Hisagi Shuuhei _was akin to having a conversation with a _hollow _over tea. Virtually impossible.

Besides, Renji had bigger fish to fry. Like the rest of those damned hollow-shinigami. All of them seemed to accept his presence, albeit begrudgingly, because a friend of Ichigo's had to be okay by their standards. But that didn't mean they accepted him into _their _little group. The only one who had the decency to talk to him _politely _was the big guy with pink hair. The others didn't spare him more than one sentence, and then there was the bitchy one who glared at him any chance she got. Oh, and the green-haired girl who'd taken to calling him "Cherry-tan," or something else that was equally moronic. He would'a been flattered that she thought enough of him to designate a nickname at all, if it didn't sound so goddamn stupid.

It kind of pissed him off that he was left out of the loop, he'd admit. Just something else to reinforce the old "stray dog" mentality that he'd gotten used to. But it was fine. He wouldn't let it get to him. If they wanted to be stuck-up assholes who refused to acknowledge him, then so what. He'd still strut around their place like he had official business to conduct.

Hisagi, on the other hand, was seemingly welcomed with open arms. Where Renji was treated as if he didn't exist, his tattooed comrade was constantly harassed. Either on the receiving end of a fist, or the receiving end of a joke. It was the same old thing: quips over the suggestive number on his cheek. Blah blah blah, they'd all heard it _a hundred times. _As for the fists, the brunet got into his fair share of scuffles with the Vizard. The bitchy one, the chick with glasses, and the guy with a toothy grin dealt the most blows.

Renji knew what the boisterous show was all about. It was Hisagi's initiation, and as far as the redhead could tell, the guy was passing. He had to wonder if he was somehow going through an initiation of his own, and just didn't realize it. Did they want to see how long he'd last being ignored? Well, if that were the case, they had better prepare themselves for a long haul. Because the sixth division lieutenant could handle whatever they had in store for him.

Anyway, the first two days Renji hadn't seen him, but on the _third _he'd caught a glimpse of someone new. The basement below their beat up warehouse was identical to Urahara Kisuke's training grounds: all blue skies overhead and red rock below. The man had been draped over one of those rocks, and at first Renji thought the guy was dead. He'd even turned to two of the Vizard (was it Love and Rose?) and asked them what was up. They'd taken one look at the object Renji was pointing at, then waved him off with a simple, "He's sleeping. He does it all the time."

And that was that. They didn't divulge anything else, and the redhead wanted to press them further; but they took off before he had the chance. It wasn't until the eight Vizard gathered around a barbecue grill that Renji managed to get Ichigo alone. After a little prodding and some heavy-set scowls, he finally got the stubborn asshole to spill the beans. The man's name was Coyote Starrk, and he was the former _Primera _Espada. Renji had been shocked, because as far as _he _knew, all the Arrancar were killed in the war. With the exception of Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez, of course, who was now a (can you fucking believe it?) _shinigami_.

According to Ichigo, it had been Urahara who stumbled across the ex-Espada, not too long after the war ended. The eccentric shop-keeper ended up making a gigai for the Primera, similar to that of his own (and the Vizard's). Since then it sounded like Starrk was wandering around on his own, back and forth between Urahara's shop, the Vizard's hide-out, and anywhere else around Karakura town that piqued his interest. But it all sounded a little too weird to Renji. An Arrancar living freely in the Human World? Did Soul Society _know?_ No, they couldn't know. They didn't know about the Vizard for little over a century- wouldn't be surprising if they didn't know about this rogue Arrancar, either. Actually, it'd be more surprising if they _did _know.

After Renji had gotten the dish, he didn't do much about it. Not at first, anyway. He had to sit on the whole idea for a night, lying awake in Urahara's shop. He and Hisagi were staying there temporarily while in the Human World, though the ninth division squad leader _did _sneak out at some point. . . The secretive bastard.

During the war the redhead had only come into contact with two Espada. The faggy Octava, and the mammoth, bigger-than-Hueco-Mundo-itself Cero. Both of them seemed pretty fucked in the head, in his _humble _opinion. Especially the one with pink hair, the crazy fucker. . . So of course he couldn't just overlook the fact that another Espada was living in _Karakura Town_. A fucking _Living __World _town. And no one seemed the least bit bothered by it, either, which only frustrated him more. Not the Vizard, not Urahara Kisuke, not Ichigo. . . Renji just couldn't help himself. His curiosity got the best of him. He had to know what the Primera was like; why it was that no one had taken him out the moment they realized he was still alive.

Renji could see why Urahara or Ichigo would take it all in stride, but the Vizard? From the little he knew of them, they seemed like a pretty tightknit group. An _elite _group. One that rejected most people. So why were they so tolerant of a former _Espada?_ He could only assume that it had something to do with what Starrk was. . . The man was an Arrancar: something that had both shinigami and hollow powers. That made him like the Vizard, didn't it? Maybe that's why they let him hang around without being bothered. . . Whatever the reason, he wanted to get to the bottom of it.

The following day, the ex-Espada known as Starrk was there, much to Renji's approval. This time the Primera was awake, sitting cross-legged on the ground, the rock behind him supporting his back. Yeah, there was definitely something different about that one. His energy wasn't anything like the energy Renji had felt with the Octava and Cero. Starrk's energy was far more relaxed and. . .nonthreatening. To the redhead it looked like the former Espada had no intention of inflicting harm on _anyone_.

Huh. Well he'd be fucking damned.

Squinting, the redhead watched the former Espada out of the corner of his eye. The Vizard had barbecued again, and all of them gathered around in a haphazard circle to eat. But there was Starrk off on his own, just _sitting _there. He seemed completely oblivious to everything around him, like he'd never been involved in a fucking _war_. And more importantly, like he'd never been the _enemy _of the eleven people whom he was sharing space with. It made Renji's brow twitch, the dual force of irritation and intrigue swirling around inside him. And what the hell was Starrk looking at, anyway? There was some kind of magazine in his hand, but Renji couldn't see the cover. He took a swig of the sake in his hand, then set the bottle down and got up so he could saunter over.

The Primera took notice of him quicker than Renji expected him to. The redhead could feel Starrk's gaze on him with his every advancing step, making him feel even heavier than he already did on a daily basis. The other man's stare looked harmless enough, and yet somehow it was still unnerving. . . Like there was a whisper of blistering intensity lurking just beneath it, waiting to be unearthed. If Renji hadn't taken an interest in the brunet before, he definitely would have in that moment. And as the distance between them shortened, he could see that the Primera had blue-gray eyes, in a shade that Renji wasn't familiar with. They were serene and cool, borderline bored, but something about them seemed to grip Renji's soul in a warm embrace.

"You're one of Ichigo's friends."

Starrk's voice was low, deep, and unhurried. There was something about the tone of it that relaxed Renji. . . He was still on the alert, prepared for anything the Espada might spring on him, but there was no denying the sense of calm that washed over him. For whatever reason he didn't feel like he was at risk, and so he allowed himself a soft grin.

"Yeah. Name's Abarai Renji. I hear you're Starrk."

Dark brows went up, and Renji took note of their delicate arch. They were overly feminine, he observed, but for some reason that didn't put him off like he thought it would. The thinness of those brows went well with the Primera's almond shaped eyes, and the sharp angle of his high cheekbones.

"That's right," Starrk mumbled, his tone softer than it was before. The redhead continued to smirk, leaning his shoulder against the rock as he stared at the other man. He was dressed like a human, which was no surprise, in an old looking military jacket. The color was gray, and there were patches of white where the material had worn down. He had gloves on too that caught Renji's attention, drew his eye to the Primera's long fingers. And that inevitably had him looking at the magazine, at a double-page spread of a naked, busty woman with blond hair. The chick had tits to rival Matsumoto Rangiku, and her legs were spread in such a way that it left nothing to the imagination. Auburn eyes widened, a tattooed brow twitching up before a mischievous grin curled the corners of Renji's mouth. The former _Primera Espada_ was looking at a fucking _porno _mag. Well hot damn, for supposedly having no heart, the hollow being certainly had a pulse.

"Where the hell did you get that?"

"Lisa-san has a whole stash."

Brows arching faintly, Renji slowly sank down so he was crouching. He used the rock for balance, his forearms resting on his knees. The other man stared at him for a moment, before his gaze went back to the nude girl. Renji stared at the picture lazily, his mind on the "Lisa" Starrk had mentioned. She was the one with glasses, if he remembered right. He thought he'd seen her with her nose in a magazine, far too engrossed for it to be anything conventional. He'd been suspicious as to what she was looking at, but little did he know it was shit like _this_.

"I'm guessin' that's your type, if the drool on your chin is anything to go by," he mumbled with a sly, suggestive tone. Even if the brunet wasn't looking at him, Renji's devious smirk could be heard in the dip of his voice.

A ghost of a smile appeared on the other man's face, and the eyes that were already at half-mast drooped even farther. "She'd be anyone's type, wouldn't she?"

"Wouldn't say _anyone_," Renj chuckled, sinking down so he was sitting instead of crouching. He let his legs fan wide, forearms going to rest on his knees once more. "Personally, that look of hers ain't my thing."

"Not your thing?" the Primera questioned immediately. His slate blue eyes found Renji's, and the look on the brunet's face spoke of genuine surprise and confusion. "What don't you like?"

Inked brows creeping over a tanned forehead, Renji couldn't help smirking. He continued to stare into Starrk's eyes, before turning his gaze on the naked woman. "Well, her hair for one thing. I like 'em darker. And those things," he motioned towards her breasts with his hand, "they're too big."

If the ex-Espada looked surprised before, now his expression was truly dumbfounded. "Too big? You're the first guy I've ever heard complain about something like _that_."

Renji felt a steady burn in his cheeks, but still he managed to retain his grin. "Haven't you ever heard that saying before?" he asked, his auburn gaze smoldering with a wolfish playfulness. "You never want more than a handful."

Starrk really did look perplexed, his thin brows furrowed in apparent thought. Renji would have never guessed that the Primera could be so expressive, and he found himself _liking _it. The shock in those slate blue eyes was beginning to ebb, though, much to his disappointment. Starrk's features were returning to their previous state of drowsy-looking awareness, inch by inch.

"I've never had a problem with more than a handful," the brunet commented, his brows arched in a matter-of-fact sort of way. Renji felt his own inked brows shoot skyward, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. There were all kinds of implications in that one sentence, and he just couldn't help himself.

"Are you trying to say that you've groped big tits before?"

"Sure, why not?"

Red-brown eyes widened faintly, and Renji couldn't suppress his shit-eating grin. He'd really scored big with this guy. . . The brunet seemed in a league of his own, different from the other Espada Renji had been around. Not only did the "hollow" being have an easy-going disposition, he had a fucking _sex _drive. Or at least enough of one that he liked looking at dirty magazines and fondling tits. The redhead _had _to lean closer, his voice dropping an octave as he mumbled, "Who?"

Starrk's brows arched slightly, but his gaze didn't shift as he flipped through the pages slowly. "Who what?"

"Who was the girl?"

At that the other man frowned, so softly that Renji would have missed it if he hadn't been staring. He watched silently as blue-gray eyes slowly rose, then turned towards him. The Primera's stare was surprisingly intense, and Renji suddenly felt frozen, unsure of what was going through Starrk's mind. He didn't know what to say as the brunette stared at him, and then that unreadable gaze drifted, falling on the redhead's neck. Renji watched as steel blue eyes widened faintly, sleek brows pulling together. He was completely baffled by Starrk's sudden silence, and it was starting to make him uncomfortable.

"What?" Renji muttered, leaning back. He tilted his head down, trying to see what it was Starrk was staring at so intently. Of course he couldn't see his own neck, so he just reached up to cover it as he shot the Primera a questioning look.

"It's nothing. Why are you over here? Shouldn't you be with your friends?" Starrk asked, pointing past Renji with his gloved hand. The redhead followed the other man's movement, turning his head to look at the group of Vizard sitting with Hisagi and Ichigo. He stared at the group with a lazy expression that held traces of bitterness. Fucking Ichigo and Hisagi, sitting with the hollow-shinigami like they were one big happy family. Renji's lip curled a little, and he gave a dismissive snort before turning his gaze back to Starrk. When his eyes met slate blue he felt the beginnings of a grin.

"I shouldn't be anywhere if I don't feel like it," he drawled carelessly. "They got boring, so I thought I'd make myself a new friend."

The Primera looked taken aback by that, his delicate brows arching in mild surprise. "Friends with an Espada?"

"Well you're an _ex_-Espada now, ain'chya? And you looked s'lonely sitting over here all by yourself."

The redhead's tone held a trace of teasing intent, and he quirked an eyebrow at the other man. He thought Starrk looked surprised before, now he looked truly startled. And was that. . .a light _flush _on his cheekbones? No fucking _way! _Renji wanted to howl and grin like a madman.

"I'm not an Espada any more because the war's over, but I'll always be an Arrancar," Starrk mumbled softly, his features smoothing. An almost forlorn look overcame the man's sculpted face, so subtle that it was hardly noticeable. His elegant eyes were nothing but calm and compliant, though. Renji's grin softened under the other man's stare, and he swayed a little where he sat, shrugging his shoulders.

"Does that mean we can't be friends 'cause you're still an enemy of mine, Arrancar?" he asked, humor still lacing his words. He offered the Primera a lazy little smile, his brow quirking again. The other man just stared at him, brows furrowed over hardening eyes.

"No. . ."

"You do have a point, y'know," Renji drawled, glancing at Starrk out of the corner of his eye. He grinned slowly and arched both of his tattooed brows. "The Winter War is over, but shinigami will always be against hollows. So I guess you and I _are _enemies, ne?"

The Primera frowned softly, but his steel blue gaze was seemingly unfazed as he looked away. "I'm not against you. I'd rather go home and sleep than fight any of you shinigami. That kind of stuff was never in my nature."

"Never in your nature?" Renji cocked an eyebrow, his expression conveying that he was unconvinced. "You fought in the war, didn't you? It's hard to imagine that fighting isn't in your nature when you let yourself be a soldier for Aizen."

"That war was such a pain in the ass," Starrk mumbled, closing his eyes as he scratched at the back of his head. "I just wanted to repay my debt."

His inked brow going higher, the redhead stared at the other man questioningly. "What debt?"

Instead of answering Starrk just sighed tiredly and pushed himself to a stand. Renji watched the other man with a soft scowl, agitation building inside him as the Primera started walking away.

"I don't think you'd understand."

"Try me."

The brunet paused, standing in front of Renji's sitting form, but turned to the side so the tattooed shinigami could see his profile. Starrk was long and slender, but Renji had a feeling that there was an underlying strength hidden beneath those clothes. He could see it in the way Starrk's dark pants clung to his muscular thigh.

"All of my friends wasted away just from being around me. Aizen knew others like me, who were strong enough to get close without dying. He gave me a chance to know them too, and that's why I fought for him."

Inked brows shot up, and for a moment the only thing Renji could think to do was stare. Aizen knew people who wouldn't _die _just from being _around _Starrk? That's how fucking _strong _the bastard was? He had to wonder what kind of weaklings the Primera had been around before, because he hadn't died yet under the guy's mere presence, and neither had Hisagi, Ichigo, Urahara, or the Vizard. . .

But that wasn't the thing that _really_ got the redhead. Starrk had said he had _friends_. Hollows didn't fucking _have _friends. And there was also the implication that he was. . .lonely? That's why he joined Aizen, so he could be around people who wouldn't die? Friendship and loneliness. . . It wasn't possible for a hollow to feel those things. That's why they were _hollows_. They didn't have hearts, or human feelings. So why did the Primera display those things in spades? A sex drive, a laid-back demeanor, the capability to feel lonely and have friends. . . It was all too human, and that confused Renji. When he decided he'd study the Primera, he expected another monster like the ones he'd met in Hueco Mundo. He expected another crazy, unfeeling freak like the Octava or the Cero. But instead he came face to face with someone who was seemingly at the opposite end of the spectrum. Starrk was slowly annihilating all of Renji's previous (mis)conceptions, and it made the man all the more captivating.

_Just what the fuck _are _you? _

"You seem strong enough to be a friend, shinigami-san."

"A friend who wants to bury you," Renji said slowly, his ink brows furrowed over a calculating gaze. After a moment he let an almost wicked smile curl the corners of his mouth. There was a dangerous glint in his eye as he pushed himself up, using the rock at his back for leverage. He stood at his full height and stared the Espada in the eye.

"Bury me?" the other man mumbled, a look of soft confusion and barely there caution passing over his features.

"In the ground," Renji clarified, grinning wider. "You gotta be strong, Starrk. Once upon a time you were the Primera Espada, and apparently your strength alone made your buddies melt away. You must be a real beast on the battlefield, huh?"

At that Starrk's brows furrowed faintly, and then he heaved a heavy side, scratching at his scalp for the second time. "I told you that I'm not a fighter. I didn't think you were the type for that blood-thirsty sort of thing." The other man paused there, another sigh falling from his full lips. The soft exhalation sounded disheartened, somehow, and his cool gaze seemed to mirror that emotion.

The brunet's words were true, Renji really _wasn't_ the type. Yeah, he liked a good fight; liked getting fucked up every now and then. But he didn't love it to the point that he could be comparable to someone like Zaraki Kenpachi. That being said, the ex-Espada was getting under his skin in such a way that made him itch like he had a rash. Renji had already come to the conclusion that _this _Arrancar was unlike the rest. He realized that Starrk could be putting on a front- milking the whole "gentle soul" persona to keep people off his back. But something inside Renji's heart told him that wasn't the case. Something told him that Starrk was genuine.

Now that he knew the brunet was capable of things that he really shouldn't be. . . Well, it had Renji wanting to unearth even _more_. He had an almost unbearable desire to discover everything from the inside out. One of the first things on his list was Starrk's strength. Aizen hadn't made the brunet one of his top Espada for nothing. The man had to be powerful as fuck, and for whatever reason he wasn't showcasing it. Was he scared, or was it really just _"not in his nature" _like he so-claimed?

Renji knew that he'd have to go about it carefully. He didn't want to lure the hollow in Starrk to the surface; that would only make the ex-Espada like all the rest, and essentially kill the redhead's interest. . . Really, the only thing he wanted was to witness Starrk's infamous strength. He wanted to know how powerful the brunet _really_ was, because fuck, he was the goddamn _Primera_. The strength of his presence _alone _had been enough to kill other hollows, or so it was said. And to think that someone who was so calm and seemingly uninterested could possess an incredible amount of power. . . How could Renji _not _want to feel it for himself? It had to be hiding under the Primera's impartial exterior, like a bear in hibernation.

_And the sleeping bear has razor sharp teeth and claws, doesn't he? Made for ripping flesh and crushing bone when the time calls for it. . ._

As if seeing the legend come to life wasn't enough, Renji had one more reason. To see that cool, unfazed attitude crack, shaken by the intensity of battle. To see those tired eyes burning with power, and that lean, sluggish body thrumming with the need to protect itself from death.

"You'd be disappointed if we ever came to blows."

Starrk said that as if he'd been able to read Renji's thoughts. The redhead blinked once to gather himself, regrouping in reality so he wouldn't get lost inside his own mind.

"Would I? I think that you must be capable of doin' some serious damage," he drawled, stepping closer to Starrk. His large hands were held casually inside the pockets of his hakama, and he jerked his head sideways, cocking an eyebrow. "You're just too lazy ta make the kill, ain'chya? No one's grabbed you by the balls hard enough to get you motivated the way you need to be."

The Primera just frowned, his dark lashes drooping so low that his eyes were almost closed. Then he simply shook his head and sighed softly. "What a pain. You're not gonna let me off the hook, are you? And here I thought I could finally relax. The war's over; can't you relax too?"

Looking up, Starrk fixed the redhead with a tired stare. And the next thing Renji knew the other man was shoving the porno mag against his broad chest.

"Here. Look at that and take care of yourself. Put all that aggression to something useful, shinigami-san. Maybe then you'll be too worn out to pick a fight."

Starrk let the magazine go and Renji's hand was forced from his pocket, shooting up to catch the reading material so it wouldn't fall. The brunet started walking away, and Renji watched him with a lopsided grin. "I told you my name was Abarai Renji!" he shouted after the Primera. "So quit with the 'shinigami-san' shit!"

The other man didn't turn back, just waved a dismissive hand over his shoulder. Renji chuckled to himself, his attentive gaze on Starrk's back. The ex-Espada strolled over to the group of nine, and the silver-haired Vizard (who was sitting cross-legged on the ground), held a plate in the air. Starrk swiped some of the proffered food as he walked by, and if the two men exchanged words Renji didn't catch them. The redhead continued to watch the Primera as he walked up the stairs that lead to the warehouse above, and only when the man was out of sight did Renji let himself look away.

Snorting softly, the red-haired vice-captain turned his attention on the magazine in his hand. It was open to a page of a raven-haired girl with pale skin, and at that his inked brows shot skyward. So Starrk had been paying attention when the redhead said he liked 'em darker? _Well shit, fuck me sideways_. . . Renji actually felt _touched_. The former Espada had taken the time to find a girl who'd appeal to him, and that was. . .unexpectedly _thoughtful_. What was that he determined earlier, about all-too-human behavior? The Primera was like no other "hollow," Renji was sure of that. . .

With a throaty laugh he licked two of his fingers, then pinched the page between each calloused digit, ready to rip it out. And that's when he felt the kick to the back of his head, forcing a stunned squawk from his mouth.

"I don't remember giving that to you. If you want one, then have the guts to ask for it yourself. Until then piss off."

Renji's head spun around, his eyes already narrowed as he sought his offender. Standing on the rock where he and Starrk had been sitting, was the bespectacled Vizard he knew to be Lisa. She perched there with her arms crossed over her chest, a no-bullshit look on her face. With the height difference between them, he could almost see up her skirt. . . And what a skirt it was- made of a dark material that was pleated and _short_. That was one schoolgirl who was very _not _innocent. He knew that for _damn _sure. Or maybe he'd just come to that conclusion because now he knew what she was looking at all fucking day?

Nope. An outfit like that (and on a girl who looked like _that_) was always debauched, porn or not.

Grinning slowly, the sixth division lieutenant turned around so he was facing Lisa fully. He closed the magazine neatly, his gaze heavy-lidded as he handed the perverted property over.

"You're a real freak, ain'chya?"

The dark-haired Vizard stared at him with incredibly green-blue, obstinate eyes. "It's called having a healthy interest," she said, jumping off the rock so she was standing beside him. She swiped the magazine from his hand, then turned away to walk back towards the group of nine. "The real freaks are the ones who try hiding it."

"Is that so?" Renji challenged, his dark brow arching. The woman didn't acknowledge him as he walked beside her; didn't even glance in his direction. He narrowed his vermilion eyes as he scowled at her head. And that's when realization dawned on him, and he found his eyebrow cocking again.

"Hey, just how long were you standing on that rock?

"Long enough to know that dark hair gets you off."

"You were eavesdroppin'?!"

"Shut up, so what if I was?" Lisa demanded, incredibly straight-faced. "It's natural to be curious."

"Most people call that being _nosy_," Renji corrected.

"And I call a shinigami bugging me a suicide by proxy. Now _piss off_."

Glaring harder, the redhead considered ripping that magazine away from Lisa's grasp and taking off. He considered finding her entire collection and stealing those, too. Trying to fight her was another option, but not as satisfying. He liked the idea of making her suffer for longer than just five minutes, and he had the feeling that denying the Vizard her dirty kicks would be the fastest route there.

But all plots were forgotten when he heard someone calling his name. Irritated, he glared at Ichigo, who was standing with arms crossed, a scowl of his own marring his orange brows. Renji felt his expression soften, his gaze questioning as he stared at his friend. Ichigo didn't say anything, just jerked his thumb over his shoulder, pointing towards the staircase.

_Guess that means we're leaving. _

Sighing inwardly, Renji looked at Lisa one final time. "Your hospitality continues to amaze me," he said, a sarcastically pleasant smile on face. The teal-eyed woman stared at him, the corner of her mouth lifting to form a smirk. The gesture was just as bitingly sardonic.

"You've only seen the tip of the iceberg. If it's too much for you already, you should save yourself another soiled diaper and run back home. Shinigami belong in Soul Society. You have no business being here."

The redhead actually chuckled, weirdly amused by her abrasiveness. Not to mention that there seemed to be something in her tone, or in the way that her mouth quirked, that told him her words weren't as harsh as they sounded. Was it just wishful thinking, or were the Vizard starting to warm up to him?

Not bothering with a response, Renji just waved the woman off and sauntered over to Ichigo. It wasn't all that surprising when Hisagi told them that he was going to stay longer, which had the tattooed vice-captain squinting. The fucking bastard; what had gotten into him? Renji made a mental note of berating the guy later, or at least interrogating him. He wanted to know how Hisagi's reunion had gone, dammit! It must have been good if he wanted to keep hanging around. . . But Ichigo was being impatient, and Renji had better things to consider, so the two of them left without a second thought for the shady, ninth division captain.


	2. Chapter 2

Renji had seen better moods. Standing outside Urahara Kisuke's shop, he leaned against the wall with his arms crossed over his muscular chest. While he had positioned himself comfortably in the shade, his tattooed comrade was standing in the sun, one scarred brow twitching ever so slightly, just shy of being fully cocked.

"It was inevitable, Abarai. We knew he'd be taken in sooner or later."

"Don't hear me arguin'," Renji drawled, feigning indifference. Never mind the fact that his upper lip wanted to arch derisively.

In their gigai and Living World clothing, Hisagi didn't look the captain Renji knew him to be. With dark wash jeans, a tight t-shirt and studded leather choker, he could have passed for any of the youthful brats Ichigo went to school with. Renji supposed that was the point, but he had only _just _gotten used to seeing the other man in a white haori. And without its impressive magnitude - or their standard black uniform, for that matter - Renji thought Hisagi looked creepily unidentifiable. The only things that remained recognizable (or hinted at Hisagi's true "age"), were his telling scars and all-too-knowing eyes.

But back to Renji and his currently piss-poor mood. Earlier that morning they had received new orders from Soul Society: the Primera Espada was to be transferred to Seireitei. It was inevitable, like Hisagi said, and they knew that it would have happened sooner or later. The thing was, Renji had planned on it being _later._It had only been a few days since the two of them found and met Coyote Starrk, but, naturally, his ever dutiful senpai gave a detailed account of their discovery in one of his timely reports. After some deliberation, it had been decided (unsurprisingly) that the best course of action would be to detain the former Espada.

The news bothered him, if that wasn't plainly obvious. Not enough that he was outraged or openly peeved, but enough to put the damper on his mood. He couldn't explain this feeling of. . .dread, or _why _it was there to begin with. He discerned that it had something to do with a needling apprehension; a gut feeling that, as an orphaned child struggling just to see another morning, he had learned to pay attention to. He had no way of knowing what would happen to Coyote Starrk once the man was in their custody, but given Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez's initial experience. . . It wasn't like the blue-haired Espada had told Renji anything _personally._ But more than once, at one of the bars they both frequented around the Eleventh, Renji had just so happened to overhear Grimmjow's drunken, angry tirades about Twelfth Division (and, in particular, its _captain_). Renji knew that the Sexta was ferociously violent and blood-thirsty by nature, but he had also learned that Grimmjow reserved his more viciously _vindictive _inclinations for the special few who _really _rubbed him the wrong way. He also knew more than anyone would want to about Kurotsuchi Mayuri's perverse interests. It wasn't hard to put two and two together.

He didn't know much about Coyote Starrk, but from the little he _did _know, he didn't want the man suffering similar treatment. He couldn't be logically certain that Starrk's apparent disinterest in, well, _everything_ was sincerity and not strategy at its finest, but deep down he still believed that the former Espada _was _genuine. Either way, whether the Primera was scheming covertly or not, Renji didn't think even a prisoner of war deserved what he was sure Kurotsuchi had cooking (bubbling, burning, _eroding_) in his laboratories. It wasn't as if _one _Arrancar posed a real threat to Soul Society. Aizen was imprisoned, and what was left of his army had been disposed of. There weren't any other Arrancar hiding out in Karakura Town, as far as they knew, and even if Starrk somehow managed to align himself with Grimmjow there was very little _two _ex-Espada could do against _thirteen _squads.

Inhumane experiments weren't necessary. If they wanted Coyote Starrk contained, they could send him to the Maggot's Nest where he would be heavily supervised; where he couldn't hurt anyone, even if he wanted to. He didn't need to be hauled up in the Twelfth to be studied like bacteria in a Petri dish. Being examined day in and day out was bad enough, but even a fate as grim as that would be the least of Starrk's worries if he ended up in Kurotsuchi Mayuri's care.

"If tests are run on him, I'm sure they'll be rudimentary and not completely invasive," Hisagi reassured him suddenly, his voice quiet and calm. That he said it in such close conjunction to Renji's train of thought was a little unsettling, but Renji doubted that Hisagi _really _had mind-reading powers. Still, he couldn't help furrowing his brows and narrowing his eyes accusingly.

"You kidding? Kurotsuchi-taichou doesn't deal in 'rudimentary.' He's a fuckin' stickler when it comes ta all that shit."

The smaller man shrugged Renji's concerns away with dismissive shoulders. "You know what I mean. Basic, simple. The equivalent of standard physical examinations everyone has to go through. I doubt that Ukitake-soutaichou would let anything get out of hand, even if he is just a POW."

"How's that explain Jaegerjaquez?"

Hisagi's brows drew together briefly, his gray eyes glinting. Maybe it was a trick of the morning sun, or maybe Renji had hit a nerve. "Things were hectic after the war ended; not everything could be supervised. What do you know about Jaegerjaquez, anyway?"

Whether the redhead had hit a nerve or not, there was little anger in Hisagi's tone. It sounded more like idle curiosity. Renji shrugged it away like Hisagi had done him. "Not much. Just heard him bitchin' about it a few times. Seemed a far cry from five-star accommodations, though," he added with a lopsided grin.

The other man smirked faintly, his expression composed. "He's still alive, so it can't have been too bad." Narrowing his eyes slightly, he fixed Renji with an inquisitive stare. "Why does it bother you? Have you become close personal friends with the Espada?"

Renji glowered halfheartedly and clasped his hands behind his head, arching his back so it'd crack. "Me? Nah. I just don't think the Twelfth would suit a guy like him. He seems pretty harmless, if you ask me. Put him up in the Ujimushi no Su an' I bet you he'd spend the rest of his days sleepin', and wouldn't bother anyone ever again."

Hisagi snorted softly. "How would you know that? You've been around him a total of two hours, maybe, and not even half of that was spent actually talking to him. In case you've forgotten, Abarai, he used to be one of Aizen's soldiers. And just because the war is over doesn't mean he's stopped being an Arrancar. The _Primera, _at that. Just one rank below the strongest of their group."

Laughing, Renji sneered at Hisagi good-naturedly. "The hell happened to you, senpai? You used to be the guy who always felt like givin' everyone the benefit of the doubt."

Instantly, he realized that wasn't the smartest thing he could have said. Quite the opposite, actually. The other man's face darkened, and someone less familiar with him would have missed it, but Renji caught on immediately.

"Nowadays, I feel it's better to be safe than sorry."

A clean enough cover, what Renji would expect from Hisagi Shuuhei, but he knew what the other man really wanted to say: _Nowadays, I know better than to trust _anyone,_ even those who are closest to me. _

Moving abruptly, Hisagi pivoted and started walking up the street. Renji stared after him, and even though the dark turn of their conversation had left tension in the air, he _had _to wonder if the man was responsible for his own clothing, or if he was secretly raiding Ichigo's closet. They might have looked strange and out place to Renji, who was used to seeing Hisagi in shinigami uniforms, but to anyone of the Living World? The man probably fit right in; looked _attractive, _even. How was it that he could integrate so well while Renji suffered chronically from an inability to do the same? His auburn eyes glanced at his busily patterned shirt suspiciously, as brightly hued as the arresting shock of red hair that was his namesake.

"I should be back with the Espada in about an hour, so be ready by then."

That reclaimed Renji's attention, who kicked off from the wall with his foot. He let his arms drop to his sides and cocked his tattooed brow. "What, you coming back with us?"

"Yes," was all Hisagi said, and Renji couldn't help grinning crookedly, his arched brow edged wryly.

"Does that mean you finally wore out your welcome over there?"

Turning so he was walking backwards, Hisagi stared at Renji with a slight curl to the corner of his mouth. "You would know all about that wouldn't you, Abarai? I wonder how long Urahara-san would let you loiter around his shop before throwing you out."

"Oi! Don't change the subject! I don't loiter, the bastard's got me doin' all the hard work every time I stay here."

"And you think that's unreasonable?" Hisagi questioned, his voice rising comfortably to compliment the growing distance between them. Renji was about to impatiently shout that the man had yet to answer his question, but Hisagi was already turning around, signaling an end to their conversation. Renji watched him a moment longer, then exhaled loudly and went inside.

* * *

One good thing about it, Renji conceded, was that he'd finally get the fuck away from Urahara's shouten and the people therein. Of course he was eternally thankful that they let him stay there at all - someone that grew up the way he did never took a roof over his head for granted - but that didn't negate the daily annoyance he had to put up with. They certainly did all they could to make things as difficult as possible, and while it was never enough to officially scare him off, he still preferred the comfort and ease of his own home back in Seireitei. Where he could eat and drink all the fuck he wanted without feeling guilty, or choose when and _if _he would clean the place up. Yeah, even if everything else went to hell in a handbasket with Coyote Starrk's arrival, at least he would have _that._

Oddly enough, he found himself getting restless as time ticked by. He didn't really know what to do with himself as he waited, so he settled for marching around the shop, not really looking at (or paying attention to) anything as he considered all the different ways this shindig could go down. It wasn't until his fifth or sixth pass of the tea room that he noticed a fluttering movement out of the corner of his eye. Quickly cutting his gaze in that direction, he saw Urahara Kisuke leaning sideways from where he sat cross-legged on the floor, waving his fan up and down imploringly.

"Abarai-san~" the man sang through a cloying smile. Renji narrowed his eyes and stopped pacing, but stubbornly refused to further oblige Urahara, despite the man's beckoning. Shihouin Yoruichi was sitting beside the shop-keeper, her attention (and chopsticks) on the plates of food in front of them.

"If only you were this lively when it came to scrubbing the floors and dusting the shelves, Abarai-san."

Renji didn't think it was possible to squint any harder, but if he did his eyelids might fuse together. Urahara's grin wavered not a millimeter as he snapped his fan shut and set it down on the table with a flourish. Reaching for a slim ceramic cup, he filled it with a dark, steaming fluid. _Coffee, _Renji acknowledged. The shop-keeper dumped a spoonful of sugar into the cup, followed by another, and another, and. . .another. Renji watched the man suspiciously as Urahara stirred the coffee, tapped the spoon against the cup's rim, then gently pushed it across the table.

"Sit down, before you wear a hole in the floor and have to sand it back to my _immaculate _standards."

"Of course all that caffeine and sugar will calm him down," Yoruichi remarked with an amused smirk. Renji couldn't see Urahara's eyes beneath the rim and shadow of his hat, but he didn't have to to know that the man was looking at her with an equally mischievous gaze.

"Why, Yoruichi-san, _whatever _are you suggesting? It's far too earlier in the morning for such schemes. Shame on you." The clogged shop-keeper sipped at his tea serenely, and Renji abandoned his futile attempts at ignoring the gruesome twosome. He swaggered into the room like he had had every intention of doing so from the very beginning, plopped down on the floor opposite them, and brought the cup of coffee to his mouth.

"If it's Starrk-san falling into an unfortunate position that you're worried about, Abarai-san, you needn't bother. I've little doubt he'll be in good, _attentive _hands. The new Soutaichou is well-known for his sweet tooth."

Renji stared, unimpressed, over the rim of his coffee cup. That was now the _second _time someone addressed his theoretical - _theoretical,_ dammit - "worrying" over Starrk. Was he really _that _transparent, or did everyone have spy equipment? He staunchly decided that he and Hisagi had just known each other too long, and that Urahara Kisuke did indeed have creepy spy equipment. _Everywhere. _How the fuck couldn't he? The man had always had an annoying (and uncanny) habit of knowing things that he shouldn't. And what the hell was he trying to get at when he mentioned Ukitake's sweet tooth, anyway?

Shaking the thought away, Renji took a determined drink of his coffee. It was nothing. Urahara was just being his usually weird, perverted and unnecessary self. "It's nothin' that concerns me one way or the other," the redhead muttered decidedly. "I'm just here to transfer 'im."

Despite the man's eyes being mostly hidden from view, Renji knew when Urahara was unconvinced. He sat there with his legs tucked neatly beneath him, and a seemingly simple smile on his face as he tilted his head towards the woman beside him. "Yoruichi-san, I've heard that one of the Espada had a zanpakutou named 'Pantera,' and that his resurrección even gave him a cat's tail and _paws._"

Yoruichi barked a noisy laugh. "You don't say?" She cocked her brow skeptically, the curve of her mouth sharp as a felid's claw. She dangled a bottle of milk between her slim fingertips, twirling it slowly.

Urahara nodded, looking amused. "I do say. It's a good thing that the Gotei 13 got their hands on him, wouldn't you agree? Otherwise he might have found his way here, to the Living World. . ."

"And two cats sharing territory?"

"Simply unheard of."

"I'd say 'either him or me,' but what's the use when we both know there would have been no competition?"

"Naturally, Yoruichi-san," Urahara readily agreed. "On second thought, I simply can't decided which is worse. Where he _did _end up, or what might have happened had he wandered into Karakura Town?"

"Well, if he's still able to function, then the latter." Yoruichi winked, then took a swig of milk. Had Renji been paying better attention to their playful banter, he might have rolled his eyes for the umpteenth time. But at that moment his auburn gaze was taken with the plate of taiyaki sitting between himself and the yellow-eyed woman. His fingers suddenly itched, but despite his tasty distraction he could still feel Urahara's shadowed eyes drifting in his general vicinity. Renji tried to ignore them, even as the older man hummed contemplatively.

"I do wonder how many Arrancar Kurotsuchi-san has managed to study."

"If he's been experimenting on them ever since he first got his hands on one, back when the war ended, then a lot of 'em."

Urahara nodded, staring at Renji before glancing back to Yoruichi. "Mmm, and that _is _an awfully long time."

Yoruichi mumbled a disinterested "Hai" as she took another drink. She smacked her lips, brought the empty bottle to her eye to peer inside, then tossed it aside unceremoniously. "He's probably bored with them by now," she announced, scratching at her belly contentedly. "Probably moved onto other things, huh, Kisuke?"

"Any more accurate an assumption, Yoruichi-san, and I would start to suspect that perhaps you've been a fly on the wall of dear Kurotsuchi-san's laboratory."

"Just a cat in the rafters."

While the two conversed, Renji's hand steadily inched its way towards the plate of taiyaki. His long fingers were brushing the edge of one cake, triumph near, when suddenly a pair of chopsticks slammed down. The utensils came dangerously close to piercing his fingers, and Renji yanked his hand back with a startled shout.

"Too slow," Yoruichi jeered, grinning at him. She maneuvered her chopsticks around the taiyaki with all the grace and precision of a practiced pancake stealer. With a flick of her wrist the taiyaki was flying back through the air, where she caught it easily in her other hand and bit the head off the fish-shaped confection. Renji might have actually whimpered his disappointment, if not for the sound of a new voice behind him.

"Urahara-san?"

Turning to see over his shoulder, Renji spied the small Ururu standing in the doorway, peeking between her strange bangs with large, coy eyes. "Starrk-san is here," the girl murmured quietly.

As if on cue, the Primera Espada appeared around the corner, looking as if he just happened to be strolling by. Hisagi was behind him and out of his gigai, but Renji's attention was on Coyote Starrk, who stood behind Ururu with his hands held inside his pockets. He regarded the room's three occupants calmly, then settled cool, intelligent eyes on Renji. "Shinigami-san," he greeted in a comfortably low voice. Renji perked up where he sat and narrowed his eyes.

"What'd I tell you about that? It's Abarai. Abarai Renji!"

The Arrancar merely smirked softly.

"Thank you, Ururu-san," Urahara rang happily, smiling. The girl bowed her head politely, but when she turned around to leave she drew up short. The Primera was standing directly behind her, blocking her path, and her movement drew his sleepy-eyed gaze. He stared at her for a moment, something strange reflecting in his pale eyes. He didn't say anything as he moved aside to let her pass, looking away. Renji could have sworn that what he briefly glimpsed in Starrk's stare was. . ._grief. _But why the former Espada would feel such a thing, and when looking at a little girl such as Ururu, Renji had no fucking clue.

"I was prepared to make a reiatsu limiter for you, Starrk-san," Urahara said as he came to a stand, "but it seems they want to do it themselves once you get there. It's too bad, really. I would have given it black stripes to match Abarai-san's."

The man in question balked, frozen on one knee in the middle of standing up. "Why in the hell would you do somethin' like that?" he demanded, dumbfounded.

"Well from what I've gathered, he will be _your _responsibility," the shopkeeper reasoned, with an irritating display of innocence. "I simply thought that having an identifying 'collar' would benefit you."

"Like a dog tag?" Yourichi offered, having moved to join them.

"Precisely, Yoruichi-san!"

Renji made a garbled sound. "In case you two-" _nutjobs, _he growled silently to himself, "-haven't noticed, we aren't dealing with an animal!"

"Nonsense, Abarai-san. Whoever said we were? Did you know that in Western culture upstanding soldiers wear dog tags as well?" Both he and Yoruichi nodded sagely. Renji narrowed his eyes, cast them aside angrily to scowl at nothing in particular, but said nothing more as he righted himself completely.

"Well, if either of you ever _are _interested, do not hesitate to ask."

Renji would have snapped a nasty retort, having had the shits of Urahara's endless innuendos, had he not noticed Coyote Starrk's critical gaze. The man's blue eyes were cataloging the tattoos on his neck, down to the slivers of black on his chest that peeked out from his uniform. Renji felt a _burning _on his skin underneath that intense stare, and he couldn't for the life of him decipher why the fuck he _would _when it was just another stupid Espada whom he hardly knew.

"Maybe I'll start calling you 'tiger-san,' shinigami-san," Starrk mumbled, lifting his gaze to meet Renji's. When the thought of anyone calling him "tiger" jolted him, Renji squinted.

"For fuck's sake, don't call me anything but _Abarai _or _Renji. _If I gotta tell you again, I fuckin' swear."

"What about me?" Hisagi asked, speaking up for the first time since their arrival. The casual tone of his voice suggested that his question was merely small talk to pass the time. He smiled simply, close-mouthed, as he leaned with his back against the door frame, his slim arms folded over his chest. "If you go around calling everyone 'shinigami-san,' you'll have to find some other way to distinguish between us."

Starrk stared at Renji for a moment more, then turned contemplative eyes on the scarred man beside him. He gave Hisagi a quick once over before he said, in that mellow timbre of his: "Ferret-san."

A second ago Renji had been grouchy with discomfort, and the next he was howling with laughter. Hisagi's eyebrow skyrocketed in surprise, but it was the gasping redhead who robbed Starrk's attention. He glanced at Renji out of the corner of his eye, a slow, nearly hesitant smile turning his mouth.

"Where'd you get that from?" Hisagi asked, his interest officially piqued.

"Lisa-san likes to talk."

"What?"

"Okay, okay," Renji wheezed between laughs, waving his hand at the other two men imploringly. "Give it a fuckin' rest, or I'm gonna keel over before we get you to Soul Society."

"Maybe that's the idea."

Renji's laughing had died down to husky chuckles, but Starrk's comment had his eyes refocusing sharply, suddenly alert. The former Espada stared for a moment, expressionless, before he allowed himself a small smirk. "To get out of going," he clarified simply. Renji's own smirk faltered briefly, but he reinforced it ruefully as he unsheathed Zabimaru.

"Yeah, well, they'd just send you with someone else."

Looking away, he held his zanpakutou up to open a Senkaimon.

The Primera watched him the entire time.

* * *

When they finally got to Soul Society there was a large group of guards waiting for them, along with Ukitake-soutaichou and his two third seats. Renji had expected to see more captains, but figured that in the end it didn't matter. The Primera was seized immediately, but instead of having the red collar of a prisoner put around his throat, his hands were simply bound and a kidou spell used to keep his spiritual pressure in check. Throughout the entire procedure Starrk stood still and malleable, not so much as twitching an eyebrow in resistance. Renji watched the man quizzically, whose own gray-eyed gaze surveyed their surroundings with leisurely interest. And when they settled on the new captain-commander, Renji noticed Starrk's jaw stiffen. The man's pale eyes appeared to harden, his thin brows drawing together minutely. Ukitake Juushirou stared back with the same warm eyes that he brandished indiscriminately, but something about his expression was distantly grave.

Remembering what Urahara had said about Starrk being "his responsibility," Renji was unsure as to how to proceed. He hesitated uncomfortably for a moment until Ukitake turned towards him. The man thanked him with a smile and cinched eyes, waving his hand in a friendly dismissal. He told Renji that he'd be reunited with the Espada later in the day, and that for now he was to leave things to them and report back to his division. Renji bowed his head obediently and prepared to leave, but not before he stole one final glimpse of Coyote Starrk. The man looked oddly resolute surrounded by more than thirty shinigami, his hands clasped together easily, as if he would have chosen that position even if he weren't bond by restraints. His chin was tilted skyward, and his bright blue-gray eyes were trained on Renji. When Renji realized they were locked in a staring contest that he hadn't intended, he narrowed his eyes reflexively, before pivoting quickly and flash stepping away.

* * *

There were many things Renji enjoyed about being back, and having Rikichi fawn over him (the way he rightly deserved) was one of 'em. The kid was one of the first to greet him, all bright eyes and wide smiles. He could barely contain his excitement at having Renji back, and the latter grinned his satisfaction as he slapped Rikichi hard on the shoulder, nearly knocking the kid on his face. When the boy gingerly rubbed the spot, still smiling, and started asking Renji questions about his assignment in the Living World, the redhead brusquely told him to quit nagging and make sure the Hell Butterflies weren't getting out. He was already strolling purposefully towards their captain's office before Rikichi had a chance to respond.

Standing outside the closed shouji, the redhead drew himself up and squared his shoulders. He tapped the door frame twice with his knuckles, gave a pause, and then slid the shouji open. Kuchiki Byakuya was poised at his desk with a pen between his fingers, and he didn't so much as glance in his lieutenant's direction when the man entered their office. The redhead smirked roguishly in spite of that, and shut the shouji behind him.

"Taichou."

"Fukutaichou," Byakuya answered after a moment's pause, his tone smoothly cool.

Renji rolled his eyes faintly, his smirk still in place as he sauntered over to the desk opposite his captain's. His grin faltered when he saw the stacks of paperwork that had piled up in his absence. Fighting back a grimace, he yanked his chair out from under the desk, just barely remembering not to scrape the floor. He sat down roughly and exhaled, pulling his sunglasses off his forehead and tossing them among the papers.

"Aren't you gonna tell me how much you missed me while I was gone?" he ventured, glancing up to see Byakuya across the way. His smirk returned, even if the Kuchiki heir was paying it no mind, consumed as he was in his work. But Renji knew that Byakuya wasn't really that interested in the sheets of paper before him (who would be?), and that he only insisted on ignoring those around him to belittle them. Too bad Renji had been around long enough to know better than that.

"If you mean to say, 'Did you miss having to recheck my work to make sure that it was done properly,' then no, Abarai-fukutaichou. I will not because I did not."

Ha. As "in the know" as Renji had become in his time spent with Kuchiki Byakuya, the man still knew how to bark. Or bite. Renji was still trying to figure out which was worse, and was steadily leaning towards believing that they were both just as deadly - and accurate. Still, he just leaned back in his chair and continued to stare at the other man with lazy eyes. The man paused every now and then to coat his pen with ink, or to switch out documents. Renji leaned farther back so he could rest his feet atop his desk.

"Che, you don't mean that, taichou. If you did you would've had someone else do all this while I was away," he drawled, gesturing with his hand at the papers waiting for his diligent penmanship. As always Byakuya took longer than necessary to respond, his slim hand gliding elegantly as he wrote. He finished his signature with precise strokes, set it neatly in the out-box, then slowly - _ever so slowly _- lifted his gaze. He stared at Renji for a moment, then let his eyes fall accusingly to the man's large feet. When they weren't _immediately _removed, he returned his chilly gaze to Renji's and arched his brow.

"Sorry, sorry," the redhead grumbled, holding his hands up apologetically as he returned his feet to the floor. Byakuya's eyes were back on his work before the soles of Renji's waraji even touched the ground.

"However poor your performance, Abarai-fukutaichou, your work will remain your sole responsibility. How else are you expected to learn and progress?"

Renji moved his lips in time with Byakuya's, silently imitating the man's condescending address. His gaze was distracted, however, as he started opening and closing the drawers of his desk, looking for any food he could snack on. His stomach growled along encouragingly.

"You know I'm just yankin' your chain, taichou."

"And I yours," Byakuya replied apathetically. Renji glanced up again to eye the other man quizzically, and having found no luck in his search, shut the last drawer. But before he could think of anything to say, Byakuya's fluid voice was sounding once more. "I've been told that you found a former Espada in the Living World."

Renji smirked faintly, resisting the urge to return his feet to the desktop. Instead he settled for leaning back in his chair so its front two legs were off the floor, his weight balanced precariously between the chair's back legs and the balls of his feet. "Damn right we did. Me and Hisagi-senpai found 'im hanging out with those Vizards. _Coyote Starrk._" He flung the name against his teeth with the tip of his tongue, clicking the syllables. The sound it made intrigued his own ears. "He was the _Primera. _Though, to be honest with ya, I can't see how."

Byakuya's raven-haired head tilted slightly, giving Renji a better view of the man's oft-expressionless eyes. They were still on the papers in front of them, but they seemed to be looking _through _them; distant, thoughtful. "And what makes you say that?"

Bouncing softly on his feet, Renji held his hands clasped together behind his head. He stared at the ceiling as he mulled Byakuya's question over for a moment, and then he shrugged his shoulders, looking back at the older man. "Well, I guess when you get used to a crazy fucker like Jaegerjaquez. . ." Trailing off, he moved his hand in a vague, circular motion. "This one is jus'. . .different. It doesn't seem like he wants to bash anyone's brains in like the rest of the Espada did. I think you'll see what I'm talking about when you meet 'im. Reminds me a little bit of you, actually."

He finished that sentence with a wayward smirk that only threatened to grow when Byakuya looked at him blandly. "I doubt we are similar in any way," the man conjectured simply. Renji chuckled, the sound throaty with amusement.

"Can't say that until you see 'im for yourself, taichou. He's quiet, doesn't really say much most of the time. Kinda steely, kinda. . .remote. Kinda. . .uppity."

"What was that, Abarai?"

"I said 'upper crust,' taichou. Y'know, 'cause he was top dog of the Espada, an' all."

Byakuya narrowed his slate eyes skeptically, then turned his head when a knock came at the shouji. Renji's head swiveled in the same direction, and he let the front legs of his chair hit the floor with a dull thud.

"Yes?" the Kuchiki heir questioned, which might as well been taken for, "Come in." The shouji slid open to reveal Hisagi Shuuhei, who was accompanying none other than Coyote Starrk. The latter stared into the room brazenly, his intelligent eyes surveying the space much like he had observed his surroundings upon first entering Soul Society. He met Byakuya's eyes for a moment, and then he turned his head to gaze openly at Renji. Reaching up, the man gripped his coat with gloved fingers and pulled it apart to bare his chest. Renji's eyes widened and he flushed with surprise, before realizing (a little too late) that Starrk was pointing at a small flower just below his right collarbone.

"They told me this is your division's insignia. A camellia?"

Renji cleared his throat ineffectively and said nothing as he nodded. It was, indeed, their division's insignia. It reminded him of the Tenth's daffodil that he and the others wore during the war to suppress their reiatsu. Why was that chosen instead of the standard reiatsu limiter reserved for prisoners. . .?

"Kuchiki-taichou," Hisagi addressed formally, "Coyote Starrk is to remain under the care of the Sixth Division until further notice from Ukitake-soutaichou."

Byakuya didn't respond at first, sighing faintly, so softly in fact that Renji hardly heard it. The man finished his signature with a sharp flick of his wrist, put the document in the out-box, and returned his pen to its resting place. "Very well. Thank you, Hisagi-taichou."

Hisagi gave a nod, glanced at Renji with a soft smirk, then backed into the hallway. The Primera looked at the scarred shinigami for a fleeting moment, before stepping farther into the room so Hisagi could close the shouji. When it was just the three of them, silence reigned stubbornly. Byakuya's gaze was fixed on the former Espada, Renji's flicked back and forth, and Starrk's slowly moved from one shinigami to the other. Eventually it settled on the tattooed redhead, and it wasn't until Starrk moved in that direction that Byakuya decided to interrupt him.

"Sit down."

Pausing, Starrk glanced at the noble as if to say, "That's what I was doing." Byakuya stared impassively, pointing at the chair in front of his desk to clarify. The former Espada hesitated, but his expression was compliant as he did as he was told. He pushed the chair out with his foot to give himself room, and then he plopped down unceremoniously. And to Renji's surprise, immediately leaned against the desk on his elbows, his gloved hands cupping his jaw for support. From Renji's vantage point he could only see Starrk's back, which was blocking Byakuya from view. But he could still _feel _his captain's arched brow, so strong as if it were piercing through the Espada's head to nail Renji himself with its disapproval. Starrk, however, remained unmoved.

"Coyote Starrk," the noble suddenly intoned, "as long as you are a part of this division you will adhere to its rules. I will not tolerate anything less of complete deference. Show even the slightest sign of aggression towards any of its members, or the members of any other division within my sight, for that matter, and I will not hesitate to dispose of you. Is that understood?"

"So stern," Starrk quietly mused, and it was all Renji could do not to choke and sputter on his own inhale. He still couldn't _see _his captain, but he could _imagine _the man's narrow-eyed stare.

"Am I understood, Coyote Starrk?" Byakuya repeated, his baritone firm.

"Never said you weren't, taichou-san. Don't worry about me. I wouldn't have the energy to harm a hair on their heads, even if I wanted to. Which, I don't."

There was a pause, and then: "Kuchiki Byakuya. You shall address me as such."

"Kuchiki Byakuya. . .?" the Primera muttered, the edge of his voice taken with curiosity. He tilted his head, just enough to spare Renji a glimpse of the Kuchiki heir; whose eyes _were _narrowed, however faintly. Byakuya remained silent, and even though Renji couldn't see Starrk's face something. . ._strange _seemed to pass between them. He wanted to crane his neck for a better view, but that would have been too obvious, even for him. He settled for a dissatisfied scowl, his leg fidgeting under his desk.

"Why not 'Kuchiki-taichou'?" Starrk finally asked, his tone lazily inquisitive.

"Why?" Byakuya questioned in return, dry as winter air. "Because you are an Arrancar; a former Espada. You are no soldier of mine and I am not your taichou. You are here under the soutaichou's orders, and there is nothing more to our relationship. Now, if you would remove your elbows from my desk."

The Primera retreated slowly, his movements sluggish. Turning his head to the side he leaned back in his chair, eyes drifting to see Renji over his shoulder. "Man, if I would've known this was what I was in for. . . I might've vied to stay with the white-haired taichou-san. Even if he is friends with the scary one."

Another pause, and then Byakuya was exhaling softly before addressing Renji. "Abarai-fukutaichou. The Espada will be your responsibility. You will not let him out of your sight, and he will be staying with you to insure that. Understood?"

"Staying with me?" Renji echoed, his brow puckering.

"Yes, Abarai. _Living _with you. Need I explain further?"

". . .no, taichou," the redhead muttered, his tattooed brow still furrowed. _That _wasn't something he'd been planning on, but he could hardly argue. He glanced at the former Espada, who was staring at him with soft eyes and a languid smirk. The man got up slowly, tucked his chair close to Byakuya's desk, then wandered over to Renji's. He repeated the unceremonious task of pushing that chair out with his foot and plopping down. Then he leaned his elbows against the desk, only this time he crossed his arms and rested his chin on them.

"If someone would've told me that a few months after the war I'd be living with the enemy. . ."

"You would've said, 'You're fuckin' crazy'?" Renji offered, cocking his brow. The corner of Starrk's mouth quirked, and the redhead found himself staring at the man's lips.

"No. I would've said, '. . .okay.' "

Staring, Renji chuckled disbelievingly. "You're fuckin' weird, y'know that? Compared to the other Arrancar I've run into, I mean. Do you even have a pulse?"

"I've wondered myself," Starrk murmured, still smirking softly. The way he stared with eyelids half closed illustrated his point, and it was Renji's turn to wonder if that was intentional or coincidental. He peered at the Espada out of the corner of his eye, then shook his head and turned his attention to the piles of paperwork. He groaned audibly, scratching under his bandanna with rough, agitated fingers. At the noise Starrk straightened up a little, his eyes fluttering minutely. He glanced from one pile to the next and hid a yawn behind his hand. Renji's eyes widened slightly when he glimpsed elongated canines.

"What is all this stuff?"

"The one shitty thing about being a lieutenant," Renji muttered, his voice hushed. He stared for a moment longer, trying to see the other man's teeth. Unfortunately, Starrk's mouth was now firmly shut, so with some disappointment (and reluctance) Renji went back to work. He shifted in his seat to get more comfortable before reaching for his pen and dipping it in ink. He watched as the Primera leaned closer, his blue-tinged gaze on the piece of paper beneath Renji's hand. Renji's own gaze looked from Starrk, the paper, back to Starrk, and then down to the man's gloved hands. Did. . .Arrancar know how to write? Wouldn't hurt to try it out, at least. . .

"Hey taichou," he mumbled, leaning sideways to see his captain past Starrk's head. "What if-"

"No."

Renji frowned, instantly deflated. "But you didn't even wait to hear-"

"I said no, fukutaichou. Get back to work."

Scowling, the redhead grumbled to himself and hunched over his paperwork, scrawling his signature angrily. When he glanced up next he found the Primera staring at him, a hint of amusement in the man's pale eyes, his thin brow quirked faintly and a corner of his mouth to match.

"Shut up," Renji grouched, but he couldn't help a small smirk of his own.

* * *

When Renji _finally _finished all of his work, the sun was waning. At some point Starrk had fallen asleep on his desk, his cheek smeared against his forearm. For the last hour Renji had looked up continuously with an obsessive compulsive paranoia, to make sure the man wasn't drooling on anything important. Once, and _just once,_ curiosity had gotten the better of him, and when he was certain that his captain wasn't paying attention he had lodged the end of his pen under Starrk's lip. He lifted as slowly as he could manage, so as not to rouse the Primera from his sleep. . . And _yes,_ he hadn't seen wrong. Coyote Starrk's canine _was _longer than the rest, and Renji made a mental note to, eventually, get to the bottom of it.

But right then he was fucking exhausted, and all he really wanted to do was go home and fall asleep in his own bed. Once he had his desk cleaned up he came to a stand, then went around to tug on Starrk's hair. The former Espada shifted in his sleep, dragged his face along his arm, then cracked his eye open to stare at Renji with blurry awareness. The redhead grinned crookedly and thrust his thumb over his shoulder. "Rise an' shine, princess. We're outta here."

Starrk moaned softly, groggy, and rubbed his face over his arm for a second time. He stood up slowly and turned towards Renji, lifting his hand to cover half his face. He tilted his head into his palm, as if he planned on using it for a pillow and falling asleep right then and there.

"Carry me down, then?"

Renji's eyes widened. "Huh?" he grunted stupidly. The Primera peered at him, one eye uncovered and the other flanked by his ring and pinkie finger. His expression was unreadable before he smirked softly, laughed to himself, and tucked his hands into his pockets.

"I'm teasing you, shinigami-san," the man murmured, his voice soft with lingering drowsiness. He didn't say anything else as he walked around Renji and headed for the shouji. The redhead was still reeling from the unexpected remark, and so he simply stood there, dumbfounded. Carry? Carry him _down?_ Carry him down from _where?_ _Teasing? _What the fuck? He shook the confusion away, figuring he was reading way too much into things, and settled on the comfortably familiar.

"I _told _you I wasn't gonna say it again! Call me Abarai Renji, dammit!"

"Tiger-san," Starrk answered instead, slipping breezily into the hallway. Renji's eyebrow twitched - actually, the entire left side of his face twitched. He was ready to storm after Starrk and set the man straight on a few things, but then he remembered where he was and whose presence he was in, and quickly he recollected himself. Kuchiki Byakuya had already finished tidying his desk long before Renji, and now he was making to leave. But not before he fixed his lieutenant with a cool stare and one of his many, as Renji liked to call it, "critical" eyebrows.

"I believe you stand corrected."

When Renji merely arched a questioning brow, Byakuya elaborated. "I didn't see even the slightest resemblance."

And with that, the man left with a tasteful flourish that only a Kuchiki heir could pull off without looking like a complete idiot. Renji could do nothing but grin wryly.

* * *

Maybe if someone had had the decency beforehand to let Renji know that he'd be expecting company, he would have thought to clean up a little. As it were, he hadn't bothered to before his stay in the Living World, and when he returned he had gone straight to the office. There were a few dirty uniforms strewn across the living room (he remembered sniffing through them while getting ready that particular morning, and tossing them away with mild self-disgust), and a few suspicious smells he wagered came from dishes yet to be clean, and trash yet to be thrown out. Wasn't the best first impression to make, but if Coyote Starrk noticed he never let on. Simply glanced around like he seemed to do wherever he went. Renji felt mildly intrigued as he observed the unhurried perusal of the other man's eyes.

"So where's Grimmjow?"

Renji stumbled over a pair of tabi sprawled carelessly in the hallway. He cursed, glowered, then kicked the offending object out of the way. "Uh, I don't have a second bedroom so either you take the futon out here or I do. Doesn't matter ta me, so it's whichever one you want."

"That was smooth," Starrk returned, his voice more lilting than usual. Was Renji hallucinating, or was the somnolent Espada actually getting a kick out of something? "I bet you get all the girls."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Renji groused, trying to appear nonchalant. No one had told him anything about _that _situation, so he had no idea what Starrk did or didn't know, or what he _shouldn't _know. He would rather play it safe than get an earful for divulging too much info.

"It's not a big deal," the other man muttered, looking off to the side. His gaze was calm, his entire person slack with ease. Glancing back to meet Renji's gaze, he laid a hand over his own chest, pressing against the spot where the camellia was. "I can feel his reiatsu, so there's no point hiding it from me. He can't feel mine with this, right? If you're thinking that-"

"You'll run off to align yourself with him, or somethin'?" Renji finished. He cocked a tattooed brow and inclined his chin, crossing his arms over his chest. "No, I'm not. 'cause I know you aren't stupid enough to think that just two Espada would stand a chance against the entire Gotei 13."

Starrk stared at him, and to Renji the man's lazy smirk was suspiciously mocking. "I dunno if it has anything to do with _stupidity, _necessarily. I'm just not interested in that sort of thing. You should know that by now, shinigami-san."

Even though his eyes narrowed at the name, Renji forwent correcting Starrk in favor of more important things. "Play innocent all you fuckin' want, but I _know _you aren't stupid and that you used to be the Primera Espada. Go ahead, act completely harmless, but I ain't buyin' it long enough ta keep you off the leash. Jus' so you fuckin' know." Stepping closer, the redhead squinted searchingly. "An' what's up with your teeth?"

Starrk's thin brows furrowed faintly. "What about them?"

"I've seen 'em. The canines are longer."

"And Grimmjow wears electric-blue eyeliner. What's your point, shinigami-san?"

Despite the man's _seemingly _unhurried tone, that response was defensive. There was no doubt about it. The bastard was getting _defensive,_ and it made Renji incredulous. It seemed painfully obvious to him that Coyote Starrk was guarding something; _hiding _something. He wanted to push, to break that wall down and yank up whatever secrets Starrk had by their very roots. But Starrk was straightening up suddenly, and walking away faster than he normally did.

"I don't expect you to tell me anything about Jaegerjaquez. I'm just glad that I'm not the only one who's still alive."

He didn't say anything else as he wandered into the living room. Renji frowned, more frustrated than he'd been in a while, and still itching to provoke the shady Arrancar into spilling the proverbial beans. But after a moment's contemplation he decided to let the entire thing go (_for now_), so as not to mistakenly tell Starrk about Jaegerjaquez. If Ukitake-soutaichou had wanted the Espada to know about each other, he would have told Starrk himself. It wasn't Renji's place and he really didn't care to get involved.

Shrugging the conversation off irritably, he headed for the kitchen. He was still exhausted but he also hadn't eaten, and he couldn't go to sleep on an empty stomach. He'd fix something simple and fast, and _then _he'd hit his pillow like a rock. From his kitchen he had a decent view of the living room, and he kept an eye on the Primera as he rifled around for food. The man nudged one of Renji's rejected uniforms with his foot, who smirked drily before turning his full attention on the food he was preparing.

"Hey, when's the last time you ate anything? If you're hungry, I'll make you somethin'." Pausing, Renji chuckled humorously. "Used to think you guys ate nothin' but souls, just like regular hollow. But then I saw. . ." He trailed off, remembering that he wasn't supposed to say anything about Grimmjow, even if it was just to mention that the guy scarfed food like a starved animal. Suspiciously, nothing but silence followed him. He glanced over his shoulder questioningly, and his eyes widened slightly when he saw that the former Espada was gone. He hurried from the kitchen, still holding onto the knife he'd been using, and whether or not it was some unconscious instinct it still seemed ridiculous wielding that instead of Zabimaru; especially when his potential would-be opponent was the former Primera Espada. Still, he didn't think to put it down as he quickly surveyed the living room (empty), then moved into the hallway. He looked towards the front door and saw that it wasn't open; that nothing seemed to be out of the ordinary. . . Shit, he'd been told that Coyote Starrk was _his _responsibility, and not to let the man out of his sight. If he managed to lose him on their _first _fucking day together, he'd never hear the end of it.

Stalking towards the bedroom, he stopped short at what he saw. The man was sprawled over Renji's futon, stretched out on his stomach, his legs fallen carelessly. The white sheets were a tangled mess around him, and he was hugging a pillow tightly to his face and chest. His eyes were closed, his breathing slow and steady, and Renji knew that he needn't bother asking if the man was awake.

The redhead rolled his eyes slightly, a grin teasing his mouth. He shook his head, studied the Primera for a few seconds more, and then went back to preparing his food in the kitchen. He probably should have been surprised that a "guest" would choose the host's bed (never mind that Renji _did _offer an option) but then again, Coyote Starrk was no ordinary guest.

He suspected things were going to get interesting very soon.


	3. Chapter 3

_Be my Romeo  
Tell me all about your love  
Tell me all about your pain  
Bated breath and rubber gloves. . ._ - "Local God" by Everclear

* * *

The following morning Renji awoke like the early bird after the worm. The worm being, of course, his apartment, the state of which was in fact equatable to a worm's undesirable slime. He took out the trash, gathered his dirty uniforms for that wash they'd been waiting for, and wiped down the kitchen before he started making himself some breakfast. He had checked, as soon as he was awake, that the former Espada hadn't hightailed it in the middle of the night.

He had found the man snoozing comfortably, and still clutching Renji's pillow to his face.

Now the redhead pushed around slices of sizzling meat with a pair of chopsticks, bobbing his hips to a silent tune hummed inside of his head as he added a few vegetables to the pan.

"So you cook _and _dance."

Stilling his hips instantly, Renji glanced around to see the Primera walking towards him. The man's eyes were clouded with sleep, and Renji was starting to wonder if they looked perpetually hazy because no amount of sleep was ever enough. Starrk scratched his scalp with gloved fingers and yawned around sharpened canines, humorously uninhibited.

Renji just cocked a lopsided grin. "My talents are numerous."

"You like cooking?" Starrk ventured seriously, leaning his hip against the counter top. He crossed his arms comfortably and observed the pan of steaming food, before turning blue-gray eyes on the redhead.

Shrugging, Renji scratched under his bandanna. "More of a habit than a hobby. You learn real quick how ta fend for yourself when you're an orphan."

"An orphan?" the other man questioned, plainly curious.

"Uh, yeah." Frowning slightly, Renji realized that Arrancar probably had no concept of the term. "Being an orphan means you're a kid with no parents. You got no family ta take care of you. You're on your own, y'know?"

Starrk's thin brows were now furrowed contemplatively. "Is that how it is for a lot of shinigami?"

"That's how it is for a lot of shinigami from Rukongai's farthest districts," Renji offered with a reticent laugh. His expression shifted then, indicating some inquisitive thoughts of his own as he recalled the Arrancar he had fought during the war: Szayel Aporro Granz and Yylfordt Granz.

"If Arrancar can have brothers, can they have parents?"

"I didn't have any," Starrk answered seriously, a hint of thoughtfulness in his tone. Renji glanced at him out of the corner of his eye, then grinned ruefully.

"Well whaddya know. Looks like you an' me are two peas in a pod."

Starrk's clear-eyed expression could only be described, Renji thought hilariously, as one of _puppy-like _curiosity. The way the Espada stood and stared reminded him too much of a pup with ears perked as it watched its human with intent interest.

"Want some?" Renji decided to ask, holding up a slice of browned meat between his chopsticks. He expected the other man to take the proffered food with his fingers, so he was reasonably surprised when Starrk leaned forward to grab it with tongue and teeth. Renji could do nothing but stare stupidly as the Primera shifted back, leaning against the counter casually as he chewed.

" 's good," he mumbled before he actually swallowed.

The redhead had to allow himself a moment to recollect his thoughts, but once he had his mouth formed a lopsided smile. "Thanks. . ." Turning away, he busied himself with fishing around in the cupboard for two plates. "If you need a shower or somethin', there's a bathroom down the hall from the bedroom."

"Now?"

"Or you could eat now, if you want." The plates clattered when Renji set them down on the counter, before he removed the pan from the burner. He glanced at the dark-haired Primera, and found the man watching him inquisitively.

"I'll take the shower."

Renji tried not to stare when Starrk walked away, but it was hard when the man was so long and lean, and when he moved so damned _languidly. _He shook his head to rattle some sense back into his brain, then turned away to scrape half of the pan's contents onto his plate.

If he had waited a moment longer, he would have seen the Primera glancing back at him before he rounded the corner.

* * *

When the former Espada reemerged his hair was damp (which effectively made it appear darker than it really was), but he was wearing the same clothes he'd worn upon entering Soul Society. Renji silently reprimanded himself for forgetting to offer the other man a clean change of clothes, but when he _did _offer Starrk easily declined. And he did so in such a way as to discourage any pressing suggestion, so Renji just shovelled the rest of his food into his mouth and handed Starrk the plate that had been waiting for him.

Having finished his food, Renji sat back and observed the other man while he waited. Starrk was, predictably, a leisurely eater. He took his time and looked nothing like the ravenous Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez. The chopsticks positioned confidently between his white-gloved fingers looked unexpectedly refined, and his indolent eyes, even when downcast as he brought food to his mouth, were unexpectedly alluring.

Renji's train of thought was shattered when the former Espada said he couldn't finish. The redhead might have questioned Starrk's appetite if they weren't already strapped for time, but as it was he didn't want to be late to work, so he scarfed it down and hurried the Primera out the door.

Kuchiki-taichou was arriving just as they were, and Renji smiled a warm good morning (while ignoring the way the gray-eyed noble regarded Starrk with mild intolerance).

The former Espada didn't pay it any mind, either. But he did seem to understand that Kuchiki Byakuya demanded silence in the office even if he didn't vocalize it directly. He also seemed to know that he'd be asked to leave if he distracted Renji from his work, so he sat quietly by the redhead's side and didn't utter a single word as he studied Renji's dutiful penmanship.

At one point he wandered over to Byakuya's desk, and Renji had to bite his tongue not to laugh as he listened to Starrk's lazily inquisitive voice and the unappreciative tone that answered him. The Primera was, however, coolly undeterred, and Renji nearly laughed out loud (before he caught himself) when Starrk sat down, made himself more comfortable, and asked if there was anything that "captain-san" wanted him to do.

About an hour later when Starrk was presumably sleeping in the chair near Renji - arms crossed, his lightly furred chin resting against his chest - and Byakuya had stepped out of the office, the Primera cracked an eye open like he'd been waiting for this moment.

"Show me how to write something," he said, opening both eyes fully as he stretched his arms above his head. The red-haired lieutenant merely cocked one tattooed brow, smirking disbelievingly.

"You wanna learn how to write? I guess you guys would'a had no use for that in Hueco Mundo, huh?"

"No," Starrk agreed, leaning closer so his elbows slid across Renji's desk. He crossed his arms for support, and looked from the pen in Renji's hand to the man's auburn eyes.

"I'll show ya how ta forge my signature so you can help me with all this shitty paperwork," the redhead suggested conspiratorially.

"Show me my name."

Renji's brow climbed, but the look in Starrk's eyes was so earnest that it had the redhead digging in his desk drawers for a blank sheet of paper. When he found one he placed it between them, then dipped his pen in ink and shifted closer.

"You probably don't know anything 'bout Japanese characters, d'ya?"

Starrk simply shook his head.

"Damn. Guess I'll start out showin' you what your name looks like. Then you try an' mimic it, 'kay?"

This time a simple nod.

Leaning close, Renji wrote the Espada's name slowly as he sounded out the syllables. "Co. . .yote. . .Starrk. . ."

The man of the hour, on the other hand, leant against his elbow, his face cradled by his palm as he watched the redhead's mouth move around his name. Renji started to smile, glancing up to ask if Starrk was ready to give it a shot; but the words died on his tongue when he saw the Primera's gray-eyed gaze focused on _him _instead of the inked letters of his name.

"What are you doing?"

Startled, Renji swivelled to see Byakuya reentering the room. "Starrk doesn't know how to write," he answered dumbly, and was met with that raised eyebrow of disapproval he'd been trying to avoid all morning. Its perfectly sculpted arch seemed to demand a better explanation than what he gave.

"I thought it'd be a good idea ta teach him, seein' as we don't know how long he's gonna be a part of our division. That way he can be more useful around here, eh, taichou?"

For a moment Byakuya simply stared at them, and then he lowered his lashes dismissively as he returned to his desk. "As fukutaichou you have more important things to concern yourself with, Abarai. If you truly believe it would be beneficial, you can assign another member of our division to educate Coyote Starrk."

For a moment Renji was disheartened, until he realized that Byakuya hadn't actually dismissed the idea. He grinned victoriously at his captain. "Sure thing, taichou. Don't think you'll regret it."

"I'm inclined to agree if it gets the Espada out of this office. . ." the dark-haired noble mused in return, glancing up to regard Renji and Starrk pointedly before he went back to his work. The two offenders glanced at each other out of the corner of their eyes, and the redhead cracked a small but wolfish grin.

"Got me scolded," he accused good-naturedly under his breath. In response Starrk rubbed a gloved hand over his face, then laughed softly.

* * *

When Renji took Starrk to one of his favorite local restaurants for lunch, they ended up running into Hisagi Shuuhei. The tattooed captain seemed a little more accepting of the former Espada - more openly kind instead of cautiously wary - than he'd been in the Living World, and he even invited them for drinks later that night. Apparently they'd be joined by Kira Izuru, Matsumoto Rangiku, and Hinamori Momo. Renji figured it'd be a good opportunity to get the former Espada accustomed to other shinigami (especially a _crowd _of shinigami), but he looked to the somnolent man for a shrug of acquiescence before he accepted Hisagi's offer.

They arrived at the comfortably cozy tavern around dusk. It was situated in the Eleventh, and the others were already there. Hisagi waved them over once he spotted them, before they could get lost among the numerous shinigami in their indistinguishably black uniforms.

Those shinigami _looked, _without a doubt, but no one said anything to Starrk as they made their way over to Hisagi's table. The group of four was already on their second round, and Renji shouted his disappointment over the countless other voices that surrounded them. Hisagi was sitting by Kira, Kira by Hinamori, and Hinamori by Matsumoto. Renji claimed a free seat on the other side of Hisagi, but before the Primera could join him the Tenth's voluptuous lieutenant called out imploringly.

"You can sit over here by me, Espada-san. You boys make me feel so lonely when you cluster in one spot. All the way on the other side of the table, too~"

The playful woman gave a full-lipped pout as she patted the spot beside her. Renji watched Starrk give pause, before he caved and obliged. Matsumoto smiled cheerfully as the dark-haired man slid in beside her.

"I remember you from the battlefield," Renji heard her murmur. She poured sake into a small cup and handed it to Starrk, her incredibly light blue eyes watching the man curiously (and _closely_). Renji frowned and glanced at the person beside him to see if they'd been as polite and poured him a drink, but said person was currently preoccupied with Kira. Narrowing his eyes accusingly at his thoughtless senpai, the redhead snatched up another sake bottle and poured his own drink.

_Che,_ I _should'a sat by Matsumoto. . ._

"You fought the fracción of the Tres," Starrk finally acknowledged. Renji watched Matsumoto scrunch her nose, and the Primera react with a small smile. "Even I thought Ayon was frightening, shinigami-san."

There he went again with that "shinigami-san." Renji smirked behind the rim of his cup, observing silently as Matsumoto put an arm around Hinamori and pulled the girl closer so she could introduce her to the Primera. Starrk held Hinamori's hand as he stared at her, and Renji watched as if hypnotized as a faint flush stained Hinamori's cheeks, and Matsumoto eagerly replaced her friend's hand with her own.

Was it just Renji or was Starrk not even aware of the effect he was having on the women? One thing he certainly _was_aware of, Renji observed, was Matsumoto's breasts. The moment she turned her head to say something to Hinamori, the Espada's eyes shot south. Renji nearly choked on his sake as Starrk allowed himself an eyeful of Matsumoto's considerable cleavage, all the while sipping from his cup with all the nonchalance in the world.

The other day Renji had wondered openly if Coyote Starrk had a pulse, but how could he have forgotten the circumstances under which they had met? Porn mags and busty blondes. . . Matsumoto certainly fit the bill, even if her hair was more strawberry blond than bleached yellow. Which suddenly reminded the more vibrant redhead of the two (who apparently was lacking where it really counted with the Primera, kickass hair or not), that he'd never found out whose plush tits Starrk had fondled in the past. A brief lapse in his memory after everything that had happened in the past two days, but now it came back with a vengeance: while they were looking at that porn mag together, Starrk had said that he never had a problem with more than a handful; and had, at the very least, alluded to the fact that he was versed in the groping of breasts. But when Renji had asked him who the girl was (his curiosity was _natural,_ as Lisa-vizard would have said; and besides, _she _was the pervert for giving Starrk that magazine, not Renji for wanting to know about the other man's former sexcapades), the brunet had gone eerily quiet and evaded the question suspiciously. . .

Eyes narrowed, Renji stared at the tenth division lieutenant and the Primera Espada as he pondered the mystery anew. Only his train of thought was quickly diverted elsewhere when the woman laughed, her bouncing breasts bumping lightly against Starrk's arm. Really, Matsumoto _did _have gorgeous hair and a gorgeous rack (that Renji could not dispute), but _he _had _red _red hair. And a fucking tattooed chest! Couldn't get a handful of it like you could with Matsumoto's, sure, but he knew for a fact that a shit ton of people found his tattoos irresistibly alluring!

Of course Starrk hadn't seen them in all their glory, but he _had _checked them out at Urahara-san's shoten. (What he could see of them peeking out of Renji's uniform, anyway.)

But did that mean they hadn't made as much of an impression as Renji was thinking, now that Starrk was ogling Matsumoto's chest instead?

"I have to tell you something."

Startled for at least the second time that day, Renji irritably wiped spilled sake from his chin. He scowled at Hisagi accusingly (again) for having interrupted his train of thought, but the man still leaned towards him unabated. Renji _would_ have thought that the only reason his senpai decided to pay attention to him _now _was because Kira had joined the conversation between Hinamori and Matsumoto; but Hisagi's no-monkey-business expression said this wasn't the time for sulking.

"What is it?" the redhead questioned, taken with the hint of urgency in the other man's gaze. Hisagi pressed closer, his elbow resting on the table as he held his hand against his face. It looked almost as if he was trying to block out the rest of their table.

"Some of the Vizard might return to Soul Society," he confided after a moment, looking deathly serious. Renji's eyes bulged and he hurriedly swallowed his next drink so he could speak.

"No fuckin' way!" Like a light bulb being switched on, Renji quickly realized where this was going. He narrowed his eyes at the other man. "Which ones?"

"Hirako Shinji and Outoribashi Roujurou."

"_And?_" Renji pressed, because he knew Shuuhei had little reason to tell him this if it was just those two.

". . .and Muguruma Kensei," the other man finally murmured. They stared at each other for a long moment, Shuuhei's dark eyes fidgeting like he wanted to look away but couldn't bring himself to do so because Renji wouldn't look away either.

Now, Renji still didn't know what had gone down between his senpai and the silver-haired Vizard while they were in the Living World. At first he had assumed things were going well (considering Hisagi's questionable absence during the night; or his wanting to stay at the Vizard's hideout even when Renji and Ichigo had left), until the scarred shinigami had suddenly announced that they were returning to Soul Society. And when he wouldn't answer Renji when the redhead had asked him if he wore out his welcome with the Vizard? Well, that had been pretty fishy, too.

The red-haired lieutenant wanted to be in the know, but in that moment he knew it was too much to ask, and not in the right setting, either. He saw that his friend was nervous - stricken, even - so instead of prying he cracked a reassuring smile and slapped Shuuhei hard on the shoulder. "Shit, senpai! That's good news, ain't it? Good enough when you found out he was still alive, but now he's actually comin' back? You oughtta be happy! The Ninth gets ta see the return of one of its captains!"

_You _get to see his return, Renji thought to himself as he squeezed Shuuhei's shoulder. The scarred shinigami smiled weakly, like he really didn't feel it but wanted to convey that he appreciated Renji's words regardless. He glanced down, and for a moment there was nothing but silence between them.

"What if he's disappointed?" Shuuhei suddenly asked, unexpectedly _candid _as he met Renji's gaze once more. His thin brows were furrowed and his dark eyes unrelenting, trepidation apparent in his expression. And the redhead was now truly at a loss, because why would Muguruma Kensei be disappointed and _what had happened in the Living World?_

He was still trying to work out a supportive answer that would put his friend at ease, when suddenly a badass stroke of genius hit his brain in the form of: "If anyone's gonna be a disappointment it'll be _him _when you have ta update 'im on a century's worth of information!"

And Renji voiced it brazenly. His senpai looked vaguely surprised at first, and then a small smile that looked more grateful than the last started to appear. But before it bloomed fully his dark eyes, without warning, darted in the direction of the door (which was hidden from view by the throng of bodies).

"So Akon really did tell him," the man commented wryly. Inked brows scrunched, and Renji grunted an inadequate "Huh?" as he followed his friend's gaze.

Annoyed shouts were barked as the crowd of shinigami jostled. Renji instantly sat up straighter, his eyes squinting to slits as he realized what was coming.

_Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez._

It took shoving one more person aside before he finally came into view, teeth bared and snarling at the man who'd been in his way. Renji glanced at Starrk quickly, and found the man staring at the sake cup in his hand. He didn't turn around, but Renji could easily tell that Starrk was acutely aware of what was going on behind him; unless he was simply tipped off by the five shinigami he was sitting with, all of whom were turned in the same direction.

"_Where the fuck have you been?_" Grimmjow growled immediately, his eyes like two incredulous swirls of blue fire as he glared at the Primera's head.

"In the Living World," Starrk answered, turning his head slightly to look at the angrily heaving Arrancar that towered over him. He remained seated while Grimmjow stood, and Renji knew that if their roles had been reversed, Grimmjow would have been on his feet in an instant to challenge the other's authority.

"What, hiding like a fucking _coward _to avoid capture?"

". . .are you saying that you honorably handed yourself over?"

"I can't believe you've been here a fucking _day _and you're already _drinking _with them. Haven't you got any fuckin' _self-respect?_ Have you forgotten what you are?! You're a fucking _Espada,_ for fuck's sake. _And they're fucking shinigami! _Are you blind or just dumb as shit?!"

Renji had seen Grimmjow enraged (who the hell hadn't?), but in that moment the guy was fucking _seething. _It brought the tavern to a screeching halt, with every single shinigami frozen, their eyes fixated unblinkingly on the two Arrancar. Renji watched Starrk glance around slowly, surveying the situation (like he'd done more than once yesterday whenever he encountered something new) before he slowly came to a stand.

"I'm sorry you've been alone in enemy territory," the Primera reasoned calmly, and didn't stop even when the other Espada blanched, eyes wide as a warning growl wound in his throat. "But you should be thankful that you lived to see another day, when many of us didn't. I know defiance is in your nature, but fighting this hard just to appear unbeatable. . . Your bitterness shows how defeated you really are, Grimmjow."

It was like a silent bolt of lightning had struck the tavern. The resounding crack couldn't be heard, but it was _felt. _Electricity charged the room and Renji felt the tension of nearly a hundred shinigami preparing themselves for a brawl (himself included).

And then in a flash of movement Grimmjow swung, his fist connecting with Starrk's face with a deafening crack.

Renji and the other four were on their feet in an instant, and the rest of the tavern converged around them like a single unit. But that's where their collective coordination ended, because a swarm of limbs were all racing towards the same exact spot: the two Espada.

Renji caught Grimmjow's arm just before it landed another blow, and the man turned on him with murderous eyes and an aggravated snarl. But before he could pounce a hand caught him by his hair, and the glint of metal caught Renji's eye as the point of someone's zanpakutou was positioned just below Grimmjow's jaw.

"I'm fucking sick of your bullshit, Jaegerjaquez," Hisagi said dangerously low, his eyes narrowed to slits. He had one foot on their table so he was standing over the blue-haired Espada, now with the advantage of height and not just weaponry. Grimmjow's eyes were no bigger as they swivelled towards the scarred shinigami, and he turned his head slowly, the beginnings of a grin splitting his face in two.

"Gotta buy me a drink before you start pullin' my hair, Fuck-face."

Renji _swore _he heard something of a _growl _emanating from his senpai right before Grimmjow lunged, launching himself over Starrk to get to the ninth division captain. They were quickly swallowed by the crowd which had, predictably, descended into chaos. It was no longer shinigami versus Arrancar, but anyone versus anyone who wanted to beat the shit out of something. And it looked like a lot of people wanted to beat the shit out of something (or _someone_).

It was the Eleventh Division after all, so Renji had expected no less.

"I'd get him out of here if I were you," Matsumoto informed him over the shouts and raucous laughter that surrounded them. A look of mild irritation overtook her face when two men nearly toppled her, but she easily pushed them away. Renji had heard her complain more than once that she hated fighting in bars, simply because men used it as an excuse to bump into her and cop a feel.

The redhead smirked at her roguishly, and she smiled back knowingly. He passed a glance between her and Hinamori (not surprised that Kira was long out of sight; most likely helping Hisagi detain his unruly "subordinate"), and bowed his head apologetically. He gave his goodbyes, told them he _might _pay for their drinks next time if he was feeling generous, then grabbed Starrk by the arm and began leading him towards the nearest exit. He had to kick a few asses out of his way and avoid a few fists, but he finally managed to get them to the tavern's entrance relatively unscathed.

Only to be stopped by a certain horned, white-clad shinigami who blocked the way.

"So this is the new Espada," the Twelfth's third seat mused, black eyes intent on Starrk's face. He gave the Primera a good once over, then glanced around the frenzied tavern. "Already starting trouble? And here I'd heard that you weren't the type."

Eyes narrowed, Renji stared distrustfully at the other man. "That's funny, 'cause _I _heard you told Jaegerjaquez about him bein' here. Tryin' ta stir the pot, huh, Akon?"

The suspect shinigami just reclined against the door frame, his cigarette rolling from one corner of his mouth to the other. Starrk seemed distracted by the twin trails of smoke that curled around Akon's nostrils, so Renji urged the Primera outside with a hand on the other man's back.

"You're welcome around the Twelfth any time, Coyote Starrk."

The former Espada glanced back over his shoulder, but Renji kept his eyes straight ahead as he lead them away from the rowdy establishment.

"Who was that?"

"Akon. He's the Twelfth's third seat."

"He's close with Grimmjow?"

Glancing at Starrk, then back towards the tavern, Renji noticed that Akon was no longer in the doorway. "About as close as fuck buddies can get, I guess," he mumbled after a moment.

The Primera's eyebrows shot up, surprise evident in his blue-gray eyes. "They're. . ." Pausing, Starrk shook his head as he looked at the ground and chuckled. "He angrily accuses me of forgetting who I am because I share drinks with a few shinigami, but turns out he's sharing a whole lot more."

"That guy never makes any fuckin' sense anyway," Renji offered, a lopsided grin on his face. "And the only one he gets along with is Akon."

Starrk smiled faintly, but his eyes were faraway as he surveyed their surroundings. It was a crisp night, and the street was packed with shinigami, many of whom were headed (excitedly) towards the tavern to join in the fighting.

But the red-haired vice-captain of the Sixth didn't pay attention to any of that as he watched the Primera silently. And when a sudden gust of wind caught the other man's hair, he noticed something startling.

"What's this?" he asked, reaching out without thinking to grab a strand of Starrk's hair between his fingers. It was an incredibly light-colored _green._

The Primera pulled away so he was out of reach. His thin brows had furrowed faintly, barely noticeable, but Renji saw the flash of emotion in the man's pale eyes. His hand was frozen in midair as he considered what he should say next, and feeling increasingly uncomfortable, he blurted out the first thing that came to mind.

"Kinda makes you look like a neon skunk."

There was a minuscule _hint _of a smile on Starrk's face, before it fell away completely and he rubbed his forehead like he was in pain.

"Can we go back to yours, shinigami-san?"

Embarrassed and angry with himself for being so insensitive (he didn't know _what _nerve he had hit, simply that he'd hit _something_), Renji didn't even bother correcting Starrk like he normally would have.

"Sure thing. It's too cold out here anyway."

* * *

Renji gave the Primera at least ten minutes to himself once they arrived back. Starrk went for Renji's bedroom, and the redhead hovered in the kitchen as he drank some water. When he found he couldn't take it anymore he crept into his bedroom to see if the former Espada had fallen asleep in his bed again.

Instead, Starrk had slid the shouji open and was sitting on the floor as he stared at the night sky.

"You okay?" Renji chanced as he wandered closer. The other man glanced back, his expression languid. There was a darkening bruise blemishing his right cheekbone.

"Jaegerjaquez got you pretty good right there," the redhead commented, standing beside Starrk as he handed him a cup of water.

"Where?" the Primera wondered as he took the cup. Renji smirked faintly and slid down the door frame so he was sitting beside Starrk.

"Can't you feel it? Right here," he said, touching his own cheekbone. Gloved fingers pressed against that spot, and the eye above it squinted.

"I don't think he broke anything." A pause, and then this: "I can't have this reiatsu limiter, shinigami-san."

"Uh, well, I don't think that's negotiable right now. . ."

"I don't like fighting, and I can't stop a fight if my power is repressed."

"_Stop _a fight?"

"I could have subdued him, and things wouldn't have ended up that way."

Renji just smiled faintly. "Don't worry about it. Members of the Eleventh live for fighting, an' I think Hisagi-senpai really needed an excuse to beat the shit outta Jaegerjaquez."

Frowning slightly, the Primera turned his head away and looked up at the moon. Renji followed his gaze and found he was at a loss for something else to say, so he just sipped at his water.

"It wasn't always there."

Inked brows crinkling, Renji swallowed and grunted a muffled "Hrmm?"

"That strand of hair," Starrk clarified softly. "I. . . When I was defeated during the war, I thought for sure that I was dead. I blacked out and I thought that was it. But I woke up later, buried under a pile of rubble. I thought maybe I was dreaming, but that didn't seem right if I was dead. Took me awhile to come to terms with the fact that I had survived."

To Renji's ears the man sounded _regretful, _and that confused him. "You weren't relieved?"

Brows furrowed, Starrk glanced at the red-haired shinigami with hollow eyes. "My fracción wasn't with me," he muttered.

Renji remained quiet. He'd fought fracción, sure, but he never really understood what kind of relationship they had - were _supposed_ to have - with their Espada. Especially after he saw one of them _eaten _by Szayel Aporro Granz.

"Her name was Lilynette," Starrk continued after a moment. "Her hair was that color." He didn't touch that green strand, almost as if he was avoiding it on purpose, but Renji understood what he meant.

"So. . .what are you trying ta say?"

"The others had fracción that were separate entities from themselves. But for me, Lilynette. . .was my other half."

Renji's eyebrows nearly shot into his bandanna. Could this Lilynette be the girl Starrk didn't want to talk about when they first met? The redhead nearly blurted out that exact inquiry, but had the sense of mind to still his tongue before he made an insensitive ass out of himself _again. _If she had been Starrk's girl and was no longer around, of course it would be a touchy subject. . .

He took a moment to calm and collect himself before he continued. "So. . .like a lover or somethin'?"

"No," Starrk answered quickly. "We were two halves of the same soul."

The other man's swift response officially blew _that _particular theory out of the water, and the Primera's sexual past remained unsolved. Renji told himself it was probably for the best right then, because this was a serious conversation and he needed to stop being a dirty-minded jackass and actually pay attention.

"What do you mean by 'two halves of the same soul'?"

Starrk paused briefly as he scratched at his scalp, his eyes directed sideways. "Do you remember when I told you that the others would waste away just from being around me? No one was strong enough to stay with us without dying. We were lonely, so we decided to split our soul in two. I was her and she was me, but that way we had each other and didn't have to be alone anymore."

Renji _did _remember Starrk telling him that, and he also remembered thinking that the Primera had made it sound like he'd been _lonely,_ and how incredulous Renji had felt at the thought of a hollow being - rumored to be _heartless_ - having such emotions. Now that the former Espada was confirming that yes, he _had _been lonely, the redhead found that he wasn't as surprised as perhaps he should have been. When he had first met Coyote Starrk he'd only had his previous encounters with the other Espada to go on (which hadn't been great, considering Szayel Aporro Granz devoured his own mercilessly and Yammy Llargo was an insatiable behemoth). He had gone into the situation thinking that he'd encounter another monstrous Arrancar, yet he had found something so fascinatingly _different _that he'd actually come to _worry _about Starrk's well-being once he knew they were taking the man into shinigami custody.

And now, after hearing more explicit details about the other man's past, and the extent to which he went to ease the pain of his loneliness. . . It just made the redhead feel unbearably _sad._

"What happened to her?" he asked at length, with his tattooed brow faintly furrowed.

"I thought they killed her. I couldn't hear her anymore and I thought she was gone. But after he defeated me and I managed to survive. . . All I can think, is that she gave me what was left of her power. She merged with me to keep me alive. Made us one soul once more."

"Who were you fighting?" Renji questioned cautiously.

"The taichou with the pink kimono."

_Oh. _Now Renji understood why the other day Starrk had mentioned the "white-haired taichou-san" (Ukitake-soutaichou) being friends with the "scary one". . .

The Primera bowed his head slightly, his arm resting on his knee and his cup of water dangled precariously between gloved fingertips. "I told her that we'd stick together forever."

Renji cringed. Starrk's voice was controlled, but the redhead had a distinct feeling that the man was agonized. He knew Starrk was _grieving, _and even though he'd already concluded that Starrk was different from the other Espada, such an unguarded display of emotional attachment was still astounding to him.

"Aren't you, though?" he ventured after a moment, hesitantly. He watched the Primera's body go incredibly still, and prepared himself for _he didn't know what _as Starrk slowly lifted his head in Renji's direction.

"What?"

"If. . .if she merged back to make you guys one soul again, wouldn't that mean she's with you?"

The former Espada didn't say anything as he looked at the red-haired shinigami. He frowned, stared, glanced away. . . And were his eyes _moist _with tears?!

_Coyote Starrk was definitely a different ball game. _

"It doesn't feel the same when I'm not forced awake with her fingers down my throat."

"I- _what?_" Renji had to rewind and play that back, certain that he had heard it wrong, but Starrk chuckled faintly as he rubbed under his nose.

"She had a temper."

Renji blinked stupidly and tried to imagine what this Lilynette girl looked like, especially with her fingers down Starrk's throat.

"Have you ever lost someone close to you?"

"Uh, well. . . I thought I had, once."

The Primera stared at him. _Expectantly. _Renji realized it was his turn to spill his guts, and although he hadn't know this was show and tell. . . He figured it was the least he could do after Starrk had confided in him.

"My friend," he began awkwardly. "My childhood friend. She was an orphan, too, and we met when she helped me escape this asshole I'd stolen water from. Hey, don't look at me like that! Kid's gotta do what a kid's gotta do! Anyway, far back as I can remember, we were together. I felt like we were glued at the hip and nothin' could separate us, but then we entered the Spiritual Arts Academy to become shinigami, and. . . Shortly after that. . . Well, Kuchiki Byakuya showed up and next thing I know he wants to adopt her."

"Your captain?" Starrk questioned, eyebrow arched. Renji nodded and slowly rolled his empty cup between his hands.

"He was a noble, and I told her to go for it 'cause. . .'cause she'd finally found herself a family, and I didn't wanna get in her way. I didn't wanna ruin it for her. She fuckin' _deserved _it after all she'd been through. But it put a wedge between us, even though I tried my hardest to be happy for her. After that I tried my hardest to beat Kuchiki Byakuya. I felt like he'd taken her away from me, and I was desperate to win against him. I trained every day but it still wasn't enough. He was just too fuckin' strong. . . When she was going to be executed I fought him, and even though I didn't win I managed to get him on his knee, when he vowed that I wouldn't be able to. Ichigo ended up saving her from the Soukyoku, but in the end it didn't matter to me _who _saved her, just so long as she was okay."

"You still haven't told me her name."

Blinking, Renji snapped back to reality. He'd gotten so caught up in reliving the past that he'd almost forgotten he was telling the story to Starrk.

"Rukia. . . Her name's Rukia."

"And she's still okay?"

Renji gave a nod. The Primera stared at him thoughtfully, and he suddenly felt self-conscious, scratching at his bandanna. "I know it's not the same thing, but it's the closest I've come to losing the most important person in my life. It felt like fucking hell both times."

"Are things better between you now?"

Another nod. "Yeah. Things got a lot better after she was saved from her execution. An' it's been a long time since then."

"What about between you and taichou-san?"

The beginnings of a smirk turned Renji's mouth. "Probably hard for you to believe since you just got here, but he's loosened up a lot since then."

Starrk's eyebrows went up. "Hate to think what he was like before."

Renji laughed slightly. "I know how he comes off," _Boy did he know, _"but he ain't so bad. He's cold and hard as steel, an' for a long time I thought he didn't give a shit about anyone. But now after all of that is said an' done, I think he really does; deep down where he doesn't want anyone else ta see. All that icy shit is just his nobility talkin'."

"I don't think he's a bad guy either," the Primera agreed after a moment. "Will you introduce me to this Rukia-san?"

The redhead's tattooed brows arched. " 'course, if you really wannu."

Smiling faintly, the former Espada shifted closer, his eyes drifting south to look at a spot near Renji's hip. "Would you make sure Grimmjow didn't break my cheekbone?"

One brow arched higher than the other, but Renji didn't protest. He pressed his fingers lightly to the bruise on Starrk's cheek, feeling over the man's already prominent cheekbone with gentle care.

"Fuck, I think the bastard might've. . ."

What happened next would shock him into complete paralysis. One second he was staring at the purpling bruise as he examined it with his fingers, and the next tanned flesh and dark hair flooded his vision. He was forced cross-eyed and _wide-eyed,_ frozen to immobility at the feel of _lips _pressed against his own. The Primera's eyes were closed, and Renji stared at him like a hopeless moron because he simply couldn't get over what was happening long enough to shut his own eyes and just _go with it. _He felt the warm press of soft leather against his cheek, a gloved thumb smoothing his skin as those unexpected lips parted to deepen the kiss. His top lip was caught between Starrk's, and then his bottom, and then there was the warm slide of a tongue brushing his upper lip, which felt more circumstantial than intentional.

Starrk kissed him full on the mouth, one more time, before he pulled away.

"I'm glad you've had a friend since childhood, shinigami-san. I used to say that I envied the weak because I didn't want power if it meant killing those around me. But now I envy you, and you aren't weak at all."

Renji was still speechless, and for a moment the former Espada looked like he wanted to give him another kiss. But maybe the downright _stupefied _look on Renji's face looked as alarming as Renji fucking felt, because Starrk just downed the water (in one gulp) that he'd been given earlier. He set the cup down beside Renji's legs, and then he got to his feet and walked inside.

"By the way, thanks for letting me use your bed last night. Your sheets smell nice."

Because Renji had spent the majority of that night preoccupied with thoughts of Coyote Starrk's gloved hands groping _breasts,_ those groping hands turned on _him _had been the last thing he expected. Which was why he continued sitting there like a dumbass, and continued staring straight ahead. He still hadn't blinked and his eyes were starting to burn. He was dimly aware that the former Espada had gone into the living room, and dimly he assumed that Starrk was going to sleep on the couch that night.

But really, the only fully comprehensible thing going through his mind was-

_What about tits and Matsumoto?!_


	4. Chapter 4, Part 1

_Farewell this bitter tongue  
You spoke your lessons falling down  
Talking out  
And breaking silence_

Despite the harm you've done  
You swallowed your rejection well  
Amplified  
Sing your song alone

Trace your footsteps home. . .

- "Falling Down" by The Birthday Massacre

* * *

That night, Abarai Renji had the strangest dream he'd had in a long time. He was bounding breathlessly over white dunes as his feet struggled to find purchase in the sand beneath him. It was then that he realized those dunes belonged to Hueco Mundo, and that he was sprinting wildly on four legs instead of two. He was able to see himself like it often was in dream worlds, and what he saw was a stray _dog, _with red fur, a blackened muzzle, a blackened tail, and a white underside.

He couldn't see what he was running from, but he heard the eerie sound of howls that surrounded him. He looked back where he'd come from, both left and right, but saw nothing. Nothing but the barren, hollow expanse that was the endless desert of Hueco Mundo.

The next time he looked straight ahead, he found himself skidding to a halt. There was a tree of quartz about a hundred feet away, and it would have been standing there alone and lonely if it wasn't for the creature lying beside it. Lounging comfortably on its side, with gray fur glowing a fiery blue, it watched him silently with eyes that glinted red in the moonlight.

The howls sounded again, first as one then climbing in intensity like it escaped the throats of a hundred. He still couldn't tell exactly where they were coming from, but now he at least knew exactly _what _they were.

_Wolves._

An entire army of _wolves._

He made to turn swiftly, but bristled when he realized something was standing right above him. Standing _over _him, with four legs on either side of his body and large, gray-furred paws sinking into the sand. He, instinctively, hunched down. His ears flattened against his skull, and the wolf standing over him flattened itself too, pressing flush against the furred back of Renji's canine form. Now his entire body was forced down to the ground, where the sand pressed cool against his underside. His flattened ears twitched, his eyes widened, and the wolf settled on top of him; huddled close and uncomfortably intimate.

The cries of a hundred wolves bludgeoned the night sky, but what rang loudest in Renji's ear was the whimpering whine of the one wolf on top of him, as it nuzzled around his head and throat.

He jolted awake so suddenly that he nearly fell off his futon. A damp sweat on his skin had his yukata clinging to him, and strands that escaped his braid in the night stuck to his face and neck. His chest heaved faintly, and he closed his eyes to steel himself as he inhaled a calming breath through his nose.

For a long moment he sat stock-still, then slowly rubbed his hands over his face. He took the tie out of his hair so he could unravel his braid, then smoothed the red strands away from his neck and face before he rearranged it into his customary ponytail. Grabbing his bandanna from yesterday, he wiped the sweat from his temples, neck, collarbone, and the cleft between his chest.

He had no idea why he dreamt of Hueco Mundo and the strangely flamed wolves. He hadn't dreamt about Hueco Mundo in weeks, and he certainly never made a habit of dreaming about wolves. Mongrel dogs, maybe (that he himself was more often than not), but not an army of wolves (who chased and surrounded him, no less). Of course Renji knew from a lifetime of experience that dreams were _meant _to be weird and often times unsettling, and he'd certainly woken up from worse. The content of this newest dream, in and of itself, wasn't particularly frightening or any stranger than other dreams he'd had in the past.

No, what startled him was the intense jolt of intimacy he had felt when that one wolf mounted him, and preceded to rub its face against him with affectionate familiarity.

Shaking his head to dislodge the memory, Renji slowly got to his feet. He undid his yukata and fanned it opened and closed, inviting air to dry the cooling sweat on his skin. He then chanced a hesitant glimpse at his lower half, with eyes narrowed and one tattooed brow cocked high on his forehead. When he saw that his fundoshi was still settled comfortably around a flaccid cock, he exhaled in relief. Reacting to the intimacy of that bestial dream would have been the last thing he needed. He could have always chocked it up to morning wood, but deep down he would have been paranoid forever more.

Fuck, what the hell was he even thinking about? Grumbling to himself, he redid his yukata in a hurry and stretched a clean maroon headband over his forehead. It was just a stupid dream and it hadn't meant shit. There was no reason for him to get so worked up over something so inconsequential.

He threw open the shouji and stepped into the living area outside his bedroom to wake up Coyote Starrk, but drew up short when he saw the room was empty. The former Espada wasn't sleeping on the futon where he should have been, and he also wasn't in the kitchen. The bathroom failed to provide an explanation, and so did the small veranda outside his bedroom.

"Shit," Renji mumbled to himself, shrugging out of his yukata and grabbing a clean uniform. He got dressed as quickly as possible, and silently bemoaned not having the chance to shower after sweating in his sleep. He really hoped that he didn't look _too _noticeably disheveled as he hopped his way to the door, while putting on his second waraji at the same time.

He was no more than ten paces down the hall when he was intercepted by another member of the Sixth. The younger man quickly informed him that Coyote Starrk had told him to "let Abarai-fukutaichou know that he'd gone to the roof, and would wait there until Abarai-fukutaichou came to collect him."

Renji's tattooed brow gave a violent twitch, which made it appear even more jagged than it already was. His eyes were narrowed at the other man, but he reminded himself that you don't shoot the messenger, and thanked his younger comrade before striding away.

Had Coyote Starrk forgotten that he was _supposed _to be sensible? He wasn't violently rebellious like Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez, but he was starting to make his own rules, wasn't he? Was this the Primera's more subtle way of resisting shinigami rule? By taking off on his own, without supervision, and essentially _instructing _his shinigami guard when it should have been the other way around?

Renji hadn't thought the lazy Primera had the fuckin' guts. He scowled to himself as he stomped outside and strode far enough into the street so he could see the roof. Coyote Starrk was sitting with his legs drawn up and his arms crossed over his knees, while his eyes stared straight ahead at the distant horizon. He didn't break his concentration for even a second to acknowledge Renji, and the redhead watched him with slits for eyes.

"Hey! What the hell's gotten into you? Don't take off without telling me where you're going! Do you want to get me in trouble or somethin'?"

"I didn't want to wake you," the other man reasoned calmly, "and I told that other shinigami-san to let you know where I was, so technically. . ."

"Technically nothin'. What're you doing up there?"

"Watching the sunrise. I saw them in the Living World, but when you've spent the majority of your life in Hueco Mundo. . ."

Starrk still hadn't glanced in Renji's direction, and the redhead crossed his arms over his chest in mild disbelief. Disbelief because the former Espada would rather watch the sunrise than address Renji properly, and mild because he actually had good reason to. Hueco Mundo was perpetually nocturnal, and Renji wasn't sure that the fake sky Aizen had created ever changed. Much like the moon that never set in Hueco Mundo's night sky, Renji couldn't remember the sun of Aizen's diurnal sky ever setting. And if it never set, then it never rose, either.

Frowning faintly, Renji turned his head in the same direction as Starrk's. From his vantage point on the ground he couldn't see the horizon past shinigami buildings, but he could see the aubergine sky of dawn bleeding yellow and orange. He kept silent as he tried to wrap his head around the idea that Starrk had existed in a world that literally never saw the light of day. While Renji had spent all of his life taking the natural changeability of day and night for granted, there'd been someone in another world who'd had no choice but to settle for the enduring night of Hueco Mundo.

Renji had a hard time trying to imagine how Starrk must feel in this new world of. . ._color._ Although Aizen had introduced the Arrancar to daylight, it hadn't been a _real _daylight. Then again, when a person had experienced life in nothing but monochrome black and white, did it really matter if other colors were real or not? Renji could afford to be skeptical, picky, and ultimately dismissive because he had grown up with a sky that hadn't been manufactured. But the Arrancar. . .why should they be hard to please? Why should they reject a sky simply because it wasn't the "real" thing? Renji didn't think he'd complain about authenticity, had he experienced nothing but dismal black skies and the lonely white glow of the moon.

But he also thought he'd have been curious, and would have wanted to know if Aizen's sky was how it really looked.

Starrk was watching the sunrise - had apparently watched them before in the Living World - but Renji still wondered if all that color overwhelmed the former Espada. He thought back to his dream - his brief experience with life in a colorless world - and how. . ._exposed _he had felt. That could have had something (or everything) to do with those haunting wolves that enclosed him, but that stark environment should have been as much to blame, especially when he'd been in such high contrast as he blazed through it in dashing red.

If the Primera didn't feel _overwhelmed, _exactly, did he at least feel as exposed in this unfamiliar world as Renji had felt in the unfamiliar world of Hueco Mundo?

He glanced back, and found that Coyote Starrk had stopped watching the sunrise and was now watching him instead. How long the former Espada had been watching him, Renji didn't know. But as he looked into those startling direct, dove gray eyes, he realized that No, he didn't think Coyote Starrk felt exposed. In black and white he was, like Renji, too stark a contrast. But here, there were enough pigments for him to blend with and hide within.

Frowning again, Renji shifted his weight and contemplated transferring his hands to the pockets of his hakama. But with Starrk staring at him the way he was, he ended up winding his arms that much tighter against his chest.

"You sure you're not just avoiding me?" the redhead questioned boldly, though he wished he would have pocketed his hands so he could have feigned nonchalance.

"Avoiding you?"

"What the hell was that kiss all about?"

There, he had said it. Before he could change his mind, he had said it. And now he did put his hands in his pockets, and balled them into fists, as he swallowed a weird lump in his throat that he hadn't remembered forming in the first place. He suddenly felt hot as he remembered the way the other man's lips had pressed against his own, fleeting yet focused, and like it was something the Primera did all the time.

Renji was really starting to think that Coyote Starrk wasn't just innocently lazy. He was starting to think that Coyote Starrk was actually a horrible fucking tease.

"I may be an Arrancar, shinigami-san, but I know what it is to comfort another."

Renji transferred his weight again and cocked his head, his eyes squinted skeptically. Knew what it was to comfort another? Renji had already conceded that the former Espada knew what it was not to want to fight, and to listen well enough that he picked up on another man's personal tastes and obliged said man accordingly. But _comforting _was taking it to an even higher level, and Renji hadn't felt that his story was that _pitiful _that he needed comforting in the first place.

It also should go without saying that usually, comfort from another man did not involve a full-on mouth-to-mouth _kiss._

"Where I come from a good smack on the shoulder gets it done," the redhead informed Starrk. In response to that, the dark-haired Arrancar just furrowed his brows and angled his head sideways.

"Renji-san! Renji-san!"

An inked eyebrow cocked, the redhead whose name was being exclaimed looked over his shoulder. A younger, similarly tattooed (but unseated) member of the Sixth hurried up to him with a wide smile.

"Renji-san," Rikichi said a third time, now that he was close enough that he didn't have to shout. "Kuchiki-taichou wants me to take Starrk-san for training this morning."

Renji's other eyebrow met its twin. "Training for what?" he questioned, although he had a good idea already of what Rikichi's answer would be.

"He said Starrk-san needs to be taught how to write properly so he can be more useful."

The redhead grinned crookedly. Even though he and his captain had always had a rivalry (albeit one that had become more friendly since the ryoka invasion), he still felt honored whenever Byakuya went ahead with one of his suggestions. Or perhaps he felt honored _because _of their rivalry. . .

Turning away from Rikichi, Renji looked up at the roof where Starrk still sat and cocked his brow. "You hear that up there? You got training with Rikichi this morning, so get your ass down here!"

The former Espada just stared at him silently for a moment, and Renji stared back squinting as he tried to decipher what Coyote Starrk was thinking. The other man didn't answer verbally, but he slowly came to a stand and turned his penetrating gaze on Rikichi. After slipping his gloved hands into the pockets of his white hakama, he jumped off the roof and landed gracefully in front of them.

"Who're you? Someone's tiger cub?"

"Eh?"

"I said this is Rikichi," Renji answered for the bemused boy, while putting his arm around him so he could rest his large hand on Rikichi's shoulder. "And he knows coolness when he sees it," he thought to add with a wolfish grin. He assumed Starrk must be referencing Rikichi's tattoo, because he mentioned a tiger specifically, and at Urahara's shouten he had called Renji "tiger-san." The redhead also thought it odd that Starrk apparently didn't know how to write, but was aware of tigers. Then again, he could have easily seen one on TV in the Living World.

When the Primera just looked back and forth between them, Renji hooked his thumb under his bandanna and lifted it to better expose a tattooed eyebrow that he cocked markedly. Rikichi watched him from below, then offered Starrk a grin of his own as he used his thumb to push black strands of hair away from his forehead.

The former Espada looked between them again, then smiled slightly.

"I see."

This close, Renji was reminded that Starrk's cheekbone had been broken by Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez the night before. He was also reminded again of that infamous kiss, but he'd rather not dwell on that all over again. Or not with Rikichi standing right there, anyway.

"Hey Rikichi," the redhead muttered, looking down at the younger man. "Would you get Hanatarou to check this guy out? Last night his cheekbone was broken in a bar fight, so he needs a patch up."

"It isn't that bad," the Primera said, but Renji remained undeterred as he glanced back at him.

"Maybe not, but why hold onto it when we can heal it for you?"

Starrk didn't say anything more as he continued to stand there with his hands in the pockets of that white uniform his soul had arrived in. Renji was thinking to himself that he needed to tell Rikichi to get Starrk a proper uniform, when the former Espada stepped closer and distracted him with those almond-shaped eyes of his.

"I'd be good with a little comfort," he informed Renji quietly, in a leisurely tone that didn't quite match up with the suggestiveness of that one particular word. The redhead narrowed his eyes askance, and resisted the urge to look away when gray stared into auburn without restraint.

"How about you, fukutaichou-san? Need some comfort this morning?"

Renji's heart tripped a beat, and his mind fumbled its footing. His hands had since returned to his pockets, but they were fast becoming a sweaty mess of clammy nervousness. Starrk was standing directly in front of him and a few feet back, but it still felt too close. Even with his hands and Starrk's hands held securely within the pockets of their respective uniforms, it still felt too close.

It felt even closer when Rikichi was standing right there, waiting to fulfil the order their captain had given him. The red-haired lieutenant didn't break contact with the dark-haired Primera, but he could still feel Rikichi's puzzled gaze passing between them.

And Renji nearly lost his cool entirely when Starrk's seductive eyes dropped to his mouth with hooded intent.

_A horrible fucking tease._

Straightening up, Renji thought that he could either let the former Espada maintain the upper hand, or he could push back boldly.

Of course he'd push back boldly.

"As a matter o' fact, I think I do," the redhead drawled, eyes lazy as he allowed himself a slow, lopsided grin. He watched Starrk's eyes dart back up to meet his, and was satisfied that they had widened from their previously hooded position to convey surprise. Those delicate, thin eyebrows were arched up, and Renji had to resist laughing as he rubbed a hand over his chest slowly.

"I had this weird dream last night and I've been all outta sorts since I woke up," he continued, tilting his head slightly as he lowered his eyelashes at Starrk. "So, yeah. Think I could use some _comfort_, now that you mention it."

"What was the dream about, Renji-san?"

Renji almost blinked and lost his concentration. He'd actually gotten so absorbed in his little game with Starrk that he'd forgotten Rikichi was still there. The Primera wouldn't look away even though Rikichi had spoken, but Renji couldn't just _ignore _his young admirer. So he let himself lose his staring contest with Starrk, and looked down at Rikichi when he answered:

"Wolves."

"Wolves?"

It was Starrk who asked the question this time. Renji slid his gaze back, and saw the Arrancar watching him with quietly intense interest.

"Big bad wolves," Renji reaffirmed, his own expression twisting warily as Starrk's questionable curiosity deepened noticeably.

"Were you Little Red Riding Hood?"

It was Renji's turn to look perplexed. "Little Red Riding Hood?"

"It's something I heard from Urahara-san," was all Starrk offered him in return.

The redhead would have demanded a better explanation than that, if Starrk hadn't suddenly stepped forward without warning. Renji bristled at the abrupt movement, and nearly reached for Zabimaru cautiously (and defensively), only to realize that the Primera wasn't even looking at him anymore. He was looking _past _Renji, at something beyond the lieutenant's shoulder, as he approached to get a better look at whatever it was that captured his attention.

Renji turned his head reflexively to follow Starrk's gaze. The street they were standing on formed a "T," and just then Komamura Sajin and his lieutenant Tetsuzaemon Iba were walking along the second street that formed the horizontal part of that T. In a moment they'd be out of sight once they passed beyond the building that Starrk had been sitting on earlier, but until then they were focus of his and Renji's attention.

"Who is that?" the former Espada asked with evident interest.

"That's Komamura-taichou and Tetsuzaemon-fukutaichou. The Seventh is their division, so they're located nearby."

". . .I remember him. And he has the face of a wolf."

By that, Renji could only assume that Starrk had seen Komamura Sajin at the battle of Fake Karakura Town. But at that moment he was more interested in the fact that the Primera was taken with Komamura's appearance, which just so happened to resemble a _wolf. _Considering they'd just been talking about his dream, and Coyote Starrk had seemed suspiciously interested in the lupine aspect of it. . . Was the former Espada fucking with him, or was there more to this whole wolf thing that had become the theme of the day?

The redhead wanted to press, but didn't know how to go about it when Rikichi was there. Not to mention that he was also becoming increasingly nervous as he watched Coyote Starrk_ stare openly _at Komamura Sajin.

"Hey, don't stare so fuckin' hard," he warned the other man. "Komamura-taichou used to be so self-conscious that he wore a helmet. No one could see what he looked like back then."

"But he isn't wearing one now."

"Doesn't mean he still isn't sensitive when someone stares like you're starin'. . ."

"I don't think he even notices, fukutaichou-san."

Renji chanced a glimpse back, and saw that Komamura Sajin was, indeed, turned away from them as he spoke with his mustached lieutenant. When the two seated officers finally rounded the corner so they were out of sight for good, Renji turned back to Starrk. The gray-eyed Arrancar was staring at him silently, with a strange expression that teetered between contemplative and unconcerned. After a moment of the three of them standing there awkwardly with nothing to say, the Primera finally spoke.

"My resurrección was 'Los Lobos.' "

It was as if he'd just announced that he'd found where they were keeping Aizen Sousuke.

Okay, so it wasn't actually _that _monumental, but Renji sure as hell felt it was damned close. He simply stared, dumbstruck, as it slowly sunk in, and he realized what exactly was being implied.

"The Wolves," he muttered, and it sounded more like he was reaffirming what he'd just heard than asking Starrk a direct question.

"The Wolves," the other man confirmed anyway, as he moved slowly so he was standing between Renji and Rikichi. His hands were still in his pockets, and his expression remained comfortably languid.

So why did his eyes look so uncharacteristically _predatory _when Renji stared into them?

And that's when the former Espada did something that Renji hadn't been expecting. He leaned in, and it wasn't until those dove gray eyes settled on the redhead's mouth that Renji realized what Starrk was planning. He brought his arm up immediately and shoved it against Starrk's chest, stopping the other man from coming any closer as he gripped white fabric in his fist. He noticed then that his heart had sped up rapidly, and his eyes had widened with evident surprise.

What surprised him even more than Starrk's advance, was realizing that Rikichi's presence was the only reason he'd put a stop to it, and that he wished the boy hadn't been there to begin with.

"Shinigami-san," Starrk murmured, and something about his soft tone sounded almost _admonishing, _"you shouldn't say you could use some comfort if you don't mean it."

"And you shouldn't bother 'comforting' those whose names you can't even say," Renji countered, albeit quietly so Rikichi couldn't hear. The Primera's thin eyebrows went up then, and Renji just frowned as he released his hold on Starrk's clothing and stepped aside.

"Um, Renji-san. . .?"

The red-haired lieutenant glanced at Rikichi when he heard the boy's tentative voice. His expression was confused and even a little _worried, _so Renji forced a reassuring grin as he clasped Rikichi's shoulder.

"Sorry ta hold you up, Rikichi. This guy's all yours."

When that furrowed brow only tightened instead of smoothing, Renji's own eyebrow twitched and his grin fell. With eyes narrowed, he smacked the kid's shoulder so hard that he stumbled a step.

"What's with you?! Wanna stand around dazed all day an' disappoint taichou?!"

"N-no, Renji-san!"

"That's what I thought," the redhead muttered, squinting that much harder. Then he flashed another wolfish grin, and flicked two fingers against his headband. "Now get goin'."

Rikichi blinked, then smiled wide as he gave the older man a salute of his own. "Yes sir, Renji-san!" He bowed his head quickly then turned to the Primera, and drew himself up awkwardly as he adjusted the strap that secured the supplies on his back.

"Ah, if you'd follow me this way, Starrk-san. . . Is your cheekbone really broken?"

For a moment the former Espada didn't answer, nor did he look at Rikichi. He kept his gaze locked on the Sixth's red-haired lieutenant, under brows that were faintly furrowed. He was frowning softly, and Renji felt the man actually looked _regretful. _But the redhead just backed away with his hands in his pockets, and cocked one tattooed brow as if to say "Well?"

Starrk's frown seemed to deepen slightly, but otherwise he didn't respond and just turned to Rikichi. "It was broken when I saw the Sexta last night."

"Ah!" the kid exclaimed, sounding startled. "Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez-san?"

"I take it I wasn't supposed to run into him so soon?" the Primera questioned as they began walking away.

"I don't know much about any of that, Starrk-san," Rikichi admitted quietly, "but. . .weren't you. . .weren't you and Jaegerjaquez-san allies?"

Renji heard only one more thing before the growing distance between them carried their voices out of reach completely: "You must not spend much time with Jaegerjaquez-san, shinigami-san."

As he watched the pair walk away, Renji leaned his shoulder against the building wall. He rubbed his fingers over his mouth slowly - almost as if he was rubbing away an imaginary kiss that could have been - then turned away quickly when he realized Starrk was about to glance back over his shoulder.

* * *

After that Renji found he couldn't concentrate properly. Sitting at his desk with Byakuya across the way, he felt unbearably _itchy. _He felt restless and distracted and uncomfortably stumped. It had to be a coincidence, right? A mere coincidence that he had dreamt about a pack of wolves, and Coyote Starrk's resurrección just so happened to involve a pack of wolves. His dream couldn't actually reference the Primera when he didn't know about the man's resurrección until after he dreamt it, right?

But it made him feel uneasy regardless, when he considered how strangely intimate it had felt when that one wolf settled on top of him and nuzzled his ruff. . .

It also made him uneasy to think that he couldn't stop rubbing his lips together (and wetting them) whenever he remembered those alluring eyes watching them. That rubbing would turn to something more pensive than self-conscious when he thought of the kiss he'd turned down, and the one Coyote Starrk had managed to steal just the night before. The other man's lips had been surprisingly soft, and slow, and sure, and-

"You seem distracted this afternoon, fukutaichou."

Renji's eyes darted up to meet the slate-gray of Kuchiki Byakuya's watchful gaze. He shook his head perhaps too fast, and resisted the urge to wipe away the moisture on his lower lip from the last pass his tongue had made.

"Just didn't get enough sleep last night, taichou."

His captain's eyebrow arched slightly. "Was it something to do with the Arrancar?"

The redhead cocked his own brow in surprise, until he realized that it really wasn't that surprising that Byakuya would want to know if a former Espada was troubling his lieutenant. Whether or not it actually was trouble was now Renji's reason for giving pause. Coyote Starrk was confusing the hell out of him (and teasing the fuck out of his sexual sanity), but he wasn't actually _troubling_ Renji, was he? He'd yet to be violent or resist doing as he was told, and that kiss, as unexpected as it'd been, wasn't exactly. . ._threatening._

Right . .? Renji was starting to think that if he wasn't in danger of Arrancar attack as a shinigami, then his _loins _were at least in danger of a wolf with unnervingly sharp canines. But he couldn't very well tell _that _to Kuchiki Byakuya, because he had to maintain at least _some _semblance of professionalism around his captain.

"No," he rushed to say, before his silence became too suspicious. "No, no. Just takes some time adjusting to, y'know, a former Espada living under the same roof. 's weird thinking this guy would've taken me down just a few months ago, an' now I'm living with 'im. But he hasn't been a bother, no. Not violent at all, jus' like I thought, so no worries there."

He cracked a reassuring grin, but his gray-eyed captain didn't look as convinced as he'd hoped he would. Still, what he said next indicated that he accepted the redhead's words regardless.

"If he does cause trouble for you or anyone else, you will let me know."

It hadn't been presented as a question, but the way Byakuya enunciated those five concluding words demanded a spoken guarantee that he was heard and would be obeyed.

" 'course I will," Renji assured him.

That conversation may have continued further, if there hadn't been an unexpected knock on the shouji.

"Yes?"

The screen door slid open quietly in response to Byakuya's smooth inquiry. Hisagi Shuuhei stood in the doorway, holding a bentou at his side and still wearing his captain's haori. He nodded in Renji's direction, then slid his gaze towards the redhead's captain. Renji could tell that his friend was contemplating _something _by the pensive look of his scarred face, but he couldn't tell _what _Hisagi could possibly be contemplating while staring at Kuchiki Byakuya.

Until he held up that bentou.

"Care to join us?"

Renji nearly fell out of his chair, and Byakuya merely arched one of his critical brows. For a moment he didn't even answer, and just took his time gathering papers into a neat stack and tapping them against his desk. He then positioned them at the corner of that polished surface, before he came to a fluid stand.

"I will have to decline, Hisagi-taichou."

Without another word the Kuchiki heir strode to the door and slipped past the ninth division captain. Renji watched Hisagi watch Byakuya, and watched Byakuya glance at Hisagi once before he disappeared around the corner.

"Maybe another time," Hisagi offered, to the back of a retreating noble. When no audible response was given, the tattooed shinigami just walked over to Renji's desk and sat down across from the redhead, who stared at him incredulously.

"What?"

"_What?_" Renji parroted. "In all the years I've been fukutaichou, I think I can count on one hand the times I've shared lunch with that guy. Well, maybe two hands. . .but that still ain't a hell of a lot."

Hisagi just shrugged his shoulders and smiled faintly. "It was worth a try. Just because it's become routine doesn't mean that's how it needs to be."

Renji frowned slightly as he fished around in his top drawer for chopsticks. "Whaddya mean? Do you think I oughtta try harder to bring him outta his shell? I just respect that he likes time to himself."

"I respect that too."

His muttered words sounded slightly defensive, so Renji glanced up to see that Hisagi's brows were furrowed as he unpacked their lunches. Then the dark-haired man just shrugged again, and pushed one bentou towards Renji. "It was just an offer. I'm not saying he should be more sociable, if that's what you think. I don't think there's anything wrong with how he is."

The red-haired lieutenant cocked his inked brow, but smirked crookedly all the same. "Me neither."

Hisagi glanced up, gray eyes catching auburn. A faint chuckle spilled from a mouth that grinned ruefully as he shook his head. "Why does it feel like we're arguing?"

Renji laughed too. "I don't fuckin' know."

The scarred captain just motioned to their lunches with his chopsticks. "Free leftovers from Omaeda."

Renji grimaced immediately. "Aw, fuck. Not again, senpai. . ."

"Not again what? Hey, don't preach to me about pride. And don't forget where we came from! We had to steal food back then, but now it's given to us willingly!"

"Hisagi, now we should be able ta _buy _our own food so we don't _have _ta steal it. Or mooch off others."

"Abarai, I went out of my way to treat you to free fancy food. Don't complain, you damn ingrate."

"If this is your idea of a 'treat'. . ."

Hisagi sucked something into his mouth with an audible smack (before Renji could identify what it'd been), then scowled at his red-haired friend. "I think you've been hanging around Kuchiki too long if you think you're too good for someone's leftovers."

"Hey! What'd you just say about thinking there's nothin' wrong with how he is?"

"There's nothing wrong with how _he _is, all things considered, but you're a different story."

"The fuck! What kind of preferential treatment is that?"

"The kind that you don't seem to appreciate. Here I am wanting to share this free lunch, out of the goodness of my heart, but all you want to do is give me a hard time about it."

Renji heard the exaggerated hurt in Hisagi's tone, no doubt put on purposefully and not as serious as it sounded. But he still found himself feeling guilty, so he clapped his hands together with his chopsticks between his fingers. "I'm sorry, Hisagi-senpai."

The other man's cheek bulged around a mouthful of rice, but once he swallowed he was smiling triumphantly. "You're forgiven if you shut up and eat."

After that they spent their time in reasonably comfortable silence as they ate. Only it started to become increasingly _un_comfortable as Renji's mind wandered back to Coyote Starrk and his current predicament. He pushed a stray piece of rice from his chin to his mouth with his chopsticks, and stole a glimpse of the man sitting across from him. Hisagi looked at peace as he ate, but his eyes kept drifting towards the shouji, and Renji wondered if that meant he was bored or uncomfortable, and wanted to get the hell out of there.

"You got something you need to do?" he questioned, one eyebrow quirked. His scarred comrade blinked at him, then shook his head hard.

"No, I was just-" He drew up abruptly and knocked his fist against his chest as he cleared his throat. "It's nothing. I was just spacing out. Did you say something before?"

Renji's inked brow crinkled, and he slowly leaned closer as he silently considered the situation. Hisagi looked and sounded vaguely uncomfortable. . .after he'd been glancing at the shouji repeatedly. . .and when he first arrived he'd asked a certain someone to join them for lunch. . .

"Senpai. . .do you have the fucking _hots _for _Kuchiki-taichou?_"

"What?" the other man responded too quickly.

Renji snorted in shocked disbelief.

"_You fucking do!_"

"Why're you shouting?" Hisagi hissed, his eyes blown hilariously wide with what appeared to be paranoia. "I hardly know Kuchiki-taichou."

"Which is why you invited him ta lunch so you could _get _ta know him."

The redhead wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, and Hisagi's dark gaze narrowed to slits. Renji would have howled with laughter if something hadn't suddenly occurred to him, and made him go wide-eyed as he waved his chopsticks at Hisagi's food. "Uh, by the way. Sharing Omaeda's leftovers with a guy like Kuchiki Byakuya probably ain't a good idea. If you wanna impress a man of his particular _caliber,_ you might wanna think about getting him, y'know, _real _food that you actually paid for."

"I had assumed that he brought his o-"

The scarred captain stopped abruptly when Renji grinned wickedly, then exhaled low and fast.

He sounded mildly exasperated.

"Renji, I'm not interested in Kuchiki Byakuya."

The way Hisagi said that had the redhead's grin faltering. Leaning back in his chair, he swung his arm over the backrest and cocked his eyebrow.

"You sure?"

Instead of firmly and swiftly denying it like Renji had expected, the other man remained silent for a few seconds. When he finally did speak, he met the redhead's gaze seriously.

"You're my friend, Renji. I'd never want to overstep the boundaries of that friendship, and. . .don't you. . .about Kuchiki. . ."

He trailed off suggestively, and Renji's eyebrows shot up. Did _he,_ about _Kuchiki? Like that?_ It wasn't so much the implication itself that surprised him, but how direct Hisagi was. Of course, over the years. . . He couldn't deny that he had thought about it, and way more than just once. The possibility had turned itself over in his head countless times, yet he'd never actually figured out how to turn that possibility into a full-blown reality. Up until recently his and Byakuya's relationship had been strained enough as it was, and he'd been hesitant to, potentially, add even more stress to something that struggled to sustain itself comfortably. Whatever he may have felt in regards to Kuchiki Byakuya - whether it was rivalry, jealousy, anger, or _lust _- they did have a working relationship, and Renji hadn't wanted to jeopardize that relationship.

He'd also had Rukia to consider. It'd been a long time since he thought of Rukia_ that way,_ and what developed between them when they entered the Academy had been nothing more than a sibling-like bond. But despite the lack of romantic or sexual involvement between them, he still didn't know how he could go after her adoptive brother, even if her relationship with Byakuya was as strained (if not more so) as the relationship _he _had with Byakuya. In fact, the awkwardness between Byakuya and Rukia over the years was perhaps the most influential reason he had to remain where he was. He'd been reluctant to put a wedge between them, and potentially win Byakuya's favor as a lover while his childhood friend, Rukia, was regarded coldly. . .

Frowning faintly, Renji crossed his arms against his desk and leaned forward. Byakuya's and Rukia's relationship had improved considerably since her failed execution, but that didn't take away from the fact that she would, essentially, become the third wheel if anything serious developed between Renji and her nii-sama. Renji knew they were all adults, and that if he did give it a shot they could work it out amongst themselves. But after spending so much time being skeptical, and considering everything that was currently happening to him, he wasn't even sure if that particular fantasy was turning in his head like it used to. . .

He moistened his lips and stared into his friends sloe-eyed gaze. "Lemme tell you somethin', Shuu." The other man looked vaguely surprised, and newly interested like he was expecting something big. He leaned forward too and his thin brows furrowed.

"Coyote Starrk kissed me last night."

There was a lengthy pause.

"Wait, _what?_"

Hisagi looked and sounded completely taken aback, and Renji couldn't blame him. Coyote Starrk was probably the last thing he expected to hear about when they'd been talking about Byakuya, and Coyote Starrk _kissing _Renji was probably another thing that he hadn't expected.

"He kissed me," the redhead muttered quietly, glancing towards the closed shouji to make sure no one was about to barge in before he continued. "Like, an actual _mouth ta mouth _kiss. And it wasn't just a friendly kiss, either. Not that I get friendly kisses from guys in the first place, but. . . Anyway, his lips were parted and he was cupping my face, and-" leaning even closer, Renji lowered his voice another octave or two before he went on, "I think I felt his tongue at one point."

He tried not to blush with embarrassment, and meanwhile his scarred friend merely stared at him silently, with an expression that was annoyingly straight-faced.

"Well, did you like it?"

"Did I _like _it?" Renji balked. That unfazed response wasn't what he'd been looking for, exactly.

"Yeah. Did you like it?"

The redhead's mouth twitched, and he shifted where he sat. He glanced away, glanced back, glanced the other way, then looked at Hisagi again. "It. . .it was really languid. But that made me feel like I was melting all over, sort of. . ."

Hisagi snorted, and Renji instantly lost his battle with embarrassment and became glaringly red-faced.

The other man failed to cover his smirking mouth in time.

"Shit."

"Shut up, dammit!"

"_Fuuuuck._"

"You- see if I ever tell you anything ever again, you jackass."

The scarred captain couldn't hold back his laughter any longer, and erupted abruptly and loudly. "I'm sorry, it's just- wow. _Wow. . . _But, fuck. Who would've thought the Espada were so sexually driven?"

Renji just grumbled irritably to himself and looked away. "Fuckin' tell me about it."

Actually, it dawned on him that he shouldn't have been all that surprised, after witnessing the pink-haired Octava deep-throating his own sword and wiggling his tongue around it like a freak ass perv. . .

"So what's the problem?"

The redhead blinked and chanced another look at Hisagi, and was only slightly relieved to see the man's smile had softened, but hadn't gone away completely.

"Problem?"

"Well, it sounds like the kiss wasn't bad at all. But you seem bothered by it anyway."

"Gee, I'm not sure why, senpai. . . Could it be 'cause he's a fuckin' Arrancar?!"

Hisagi just chuckled quietly and leaned back in his seat. "Yeah, well, this whole time you've been adamant that he's 'different' from the others."

"And this whole time you've been acting like I'm naive for it."

The other man arched an eyebrow skeptically. "Doesn't seem like you've taken my opinion to heart thus far. Do you think he did it just to fuck with you?"

Renji frowned as he considered that question. He still didn't think Coyote Starrk was as threatening as the other Espada he'd encountered, and he didn't feel Soul Society was in danger while the Primera was there. But he also didn't know Starrk well enough to know what the man's motives were in a situation like this. He really couldn't be certain that the man was sincere, but he also didn't want to think that the kiss was meant to be weirdly passive-aggressive or manipulative. . .

"I dunno," he finally admitted. "But he tried doing it again this morning. I stopped him 'cause Rikichi was standing right there, an' he looked. . .disappointed. Starrk, I mean. Don't think Rikichi looked that disappointed, just really fuckin' confused."

Hisagi's mouth twitched, and his eyebrows did a funny wiggle that conveyed puzzlement (and probably amusement in regards to Rikichi). "Well, maybe he actually means it."

Renji just sighed through his nose and crossed his arms over his chest. "Y'know the first time I met 'im, he was looking at a fucking porno mag?"

"And?" Hisagi laughed.

"_And _he was lookin' at naked women. Kept staring at one in particular who had massive tits and blond hair."

"So. . .?"

"_So _why's he kissing a guy if that's the sorta thing he's into?"

"Liking one particular girl from a porno mag doesn't mean that's _all _he likes, Renji. You should remember what it was like during our Academy days. There were times I went to bed with one person and woke up with two more."

"Shuu, what does your being a slut have ta do with this?"

"_And of course _there were times when I was attracted to a certain someone or something, and then I changed my mind and moved onto something else. My point is, one picture doesn't mean anything. Attraction is rarely so cut-and-dried. You know I've been desperate for Matsumoto-san, but you and I have slept together countless times over the years, haven't we?"

"So you're sayin' I could be his substitute when he can't get what he really wants?"

Hisagi's brows screwed up and he shook his head as he leaned forward on Renji's desk. "Fuck, no. Why are you being so stubborn about this? I really have no idea _what _you are to him, so that isn't what I'm saying. Not even close. What I'm saying is people can be attracted to different things. There doesn't have to be _one _type, and there rarely is. And you were never a substitute for anything, Renji. You know you're fucking gorgeous and really can't be compared to anyone, so a good substitute you would not make."

Shit, why'd Hisagi have to appeal to Renji's ego when he was already on edge thinking about sex? He narrowed his eyes and rubbed under his nose and tried not to flush with a mixture of embarrassment, pride, and excitement.

"Yeah, well, he was really inta that picture. And he even said he's fondled big tits before! Or, well. . .he said 'sure why not' when I asked him if he had, but that's basically the same thing, ain't it?"

"Not really. . . Besides, that isn't even the point. Whether he's fondled breasts in the past or ogles naked girls, _you're_ the one he kissed, and apparently keeps _trying _to kiss. Don't over think this. You're assuming he's straight because of a porno mag, but if he was completely straight he wouldn't be coming onto _you, _which he undoubtedly is. But if you're really too confused to just go with it, why don't you ask him point-blank what he really wants?"

Renji sighed and tipped his head back. Just ask him what he wants. Point-blank. Seemed easy enough, and it was better than driving himself crazy with cowardly stupidity. If Coyote Starrk was man enough to kiss him, _he _could be man enough to ask the guy up front questions about his sexual past and his sexual intentions as of now. By kissing Renji in the first place, the former Espada was basically inviting such questions anyway, wasn't he?

Hunching forward, he exhaled one last time through his nose. Then he looked up, eyed Hisagi Shuuhei, and flashed a crooked grin.

"Thanks, Shuuhei."

The other man just shrugged and crushed his napkin into a ball inside his fist. "What am I for if it isn't giving advice and pulling my friends' heads out of their asses?"

"Or putting things into 'em."

"You know where to find me when yours gets lonely."


	5. Chapter 4, Part 2

When Coyote Starrk was returned to Renji later that day, the man had been changed into a shinigami's uniform (and the bruise on his cheek had been taken care of as well). The redhead had actually been slightly disappointed by the new attire, because the Primera's dark chestnut hair didn't look as striking against black as it did white. But his light gray eyes did pop considerably, and so did the remnants of the hollow mask that encircled his throat, which hadn't been as glaringly noticeable all the days prior.

That gave Renji pause, and also drew his attention to the black cavity in Starrk's chest. Of course he'd seen the hollow hole before, but he had preferred not to dwell on it too much. Now it seemed to stare him down boldly, along with that bone jaw collar, as both were flanked - ironically - by a shinigami's uniform.

Another thing that remained were Starrk's white gloves. Again, they were more noticeable now against the stark contrast of black, and Renji recalled that he'd yet to see the Primera's bare hands.

Those hands disappeared into Starrk's pockets as they walked side by side down the street. Considering it was later in the day, the temperature was starting to wane to something more comfortably cool. The former Espada was quiet, and so was Renji as he racked his brain for a casual (and not completely invasive) way to heed Hisagi's advice, and ask Starrk what needed to be asked.

The redhead glanced sideways to see what the other man was doing, and to gauge his current mood before he preceded. Starrk really didn't look any different from his usual leisurely self, but his head was turned towards Renji and his almond eyes were set on the lieutenant's throat with relaxed interest.

It wasn't the first time the former Espada had stared at Renji's neck. The redhead still remembered the way Starrk had stared the first time they met, and coincidentally, it had been after Renji asked who the girl was Starrk had groped in the past.

"There somethin' wrong with my neck?" he grumbled, while reaching up to rub a large hand over his throat. He grinned faintly, but his auburn eyes were serious and questioning as he stared at the other man.

Blue-gray met his gaze, then slid away when Starrk turned his head to look straight ahead. "No. Should there be?"

"You tell me. You're the one who tends ta stare. 's why I'm askin'."

The Primera turned his head even farther, then tilted it back slightly so the redhead glimpsed the slight furrowing of slender brows. They smoothed a moment later, and Starrk finally looked him in the eye when he said, "Those lightning bolt tattoos just remind me of someone I used to know."

The jagged tattoo that made up Renji's eyebrow cocked sharply. "Who?"

"The Tres Espada. Tia Harribel. She had similar markings on her cheeks, but they were blue."

The redhead's other eyebrow met its twin high on his forehead in obvious surprise. But that surprise twisted much like his gut, when the implications sunk in and settled cold and heavy in the pit of stomach.

"Was she blonde?"

It was Coyote Starrk's turn to look surprised, as blue eyes widened and thin brows arched high. "Yeah," he muttered slowly. "The kind of blonde. . . Well, I guess you could say the yellow of her hair was comparable to the sun, once Aizen had introduced it to us."

Renji chuckled, but it sounded strangely hollow to his own ears. He also felt that his grin lacked genuine bite, and his hands clenched inside the sleeves of his shihakushou. He'd trapped himself in the cold grip of mistrust and hurt as it slowly dawned on him that what he'd said to Hisagi could be more of a reality than a joke. He actually _could _be a substitute, if Starrk was reminded of this Tia Harribel whenever he stared at the tattoos on Renji's neck.

"Why'd you think she'd be blonde?" the other man questioned him slowly.

Glancing up, Renji forced a smug smile with knowing, playful eyes. "Lucky fuckin' guess? I just remembered the way you stared at that girl in the magazine you got from the Vizard in the Living World." Removing his hands from his uniform, he held them up in front of his chest and made a squeezing gesture. "Was the Tres as impressive as the girl from the magazine?"

Starrk watched the redhead's hands, then looked away and squinted at the sky. "More so."

_Of course she was._

Renji dropped his hands to the pockets of his hakama. He squinted too against the rays of the fading sun, and thought about this Tia Harribel who had hair as yellow.

"Was she your girl?"

He could see the Primera shrugging out of the corner of his eye.

"I'm not sure what we were. Her mask covered the entire lower half of her face, her neck, and nearly half of her chest."

The redhead arched his brow as he glanced at the man walking beside him. The former Espada glanced back at him, then looked straight ahead again.

"I saw her mouth twice. I kissed it once, for a night, and the second time I saw it would be the last. It was during her resurrección, so at the final battle. Those were the only times I saw the markings on her face, too."

At another, less serious time Renji might have joked that it must have been hard getting a good grip on her breasts if they were covered with bone. But right then it sounded unnecessarily morbid in his head, and he wasn't exactly in the joking mood anyway, and it didn't look like Starrk was either. So instead he asked something that others might have considered absurd, but after everything he'd heard from the Primera until now, didn't seem absurd in the slightest.

"Did you love her?"

Starrk looked at him then, directly, and exhaled like a quiet laugh. "What does an Arrancar know about love, shinigami-san?"

Maybe he was more in the joking mood than Renji had thought. The redhead just frowned like he was pursing his lips, and arched his eyebrow like he was unconvinced.

"If you react to a porno mag, you got a pulse. If you got a pulse, you got a heart. And if you got a heart you know ab-"

"Hollows do not have hearts," the other man interrupted him. His brows were furrowed now as he pressed two gloved fingers to the hole in his chest. "What do you think this is?"

"I think it's a fuckin' convenient excuse-"

Starrk snorted roughly. "Shinigami-san, I wouldn't call these holes in our bodies _convenient._"

"Why do you do that?"

The Primera paused, and looked at Renji sideways, his brows puckered once more. He remained quiet for longer than he should have if he planned on answering, so the redhead sighed and ran a hand over his hair.

"Listen, I'm sorry I said that. I know it ain't 'convenient,' I just think it's fuckin' bullshit when you act like you ain't got feelings. Saying 'hollows don't have hearts' like that means they're incapable of emotion? I know that ain't fuckin' _true._ I know you look at these tattoos on my neck and _feel _somethin' like nostalgia. I listened to you tell me about Lilynette an' I heard _pain _an' _regret _in your voice. And just this fuckin' morning _you _said ta me that you may be an Arrancar, but that you knew what it was to comfort another. Don't you realize that people comfort _out _of love? That they comfort each other 'cause they_ care?_"

When Renji stopped, the former Espada just stared at him in silence for an excruciatingly long moment. He glanced away, stared at something faraway, then looked back and said with unnerving seriousness:

"Do you realize what you're saying?"

The redhead didn't respond because he didn't understand what Starrk was asking him. He held the other man's gaze as he tried to make sense of that strange tone, until it slowly, _slowly _occurred to him that. . .if he was saying that comfort was a form of love, what did he think of the Primera wanting to comfort him twice in the last twenty four hours?

Renji felt so suddenly uncomfortable that he didn't know which way to turn. His feet would have shuffled restlessly or his eyes would have darted around, if he didn't have the presence of mind to hold still so it didn't show how off-kilter he'd been thrown. The air around him suddenly felt too warm, and hadn't the temperature cooled down earlier when the sun started to set?

Looking away, he saw that his barracks were only a short distance away. He glanced at Starrk and nodded his head in that direction as he headed over.

"Look, I'm sorry if I pried or said something insensitive. It's just, when I met you, you were looking at that porno mag, an' a former fuckin' Espada looking at a fucking_ porno mag _was the last thing I had expected. Then you looked so damned interested in that one girl and said you'd fondled breasts before, and after that I really wanted ta know who'd you been groping. 'cause that's something else I hadn't expected, y'know? Arrancar groping each other in Hueco Mundo and shit like that. . . Fuck, I'm probably just saying more insensitive shit, aren't I?"

Laughing nervously, Renji didn't risk a look back at the Arrancar following him as he slid the shouji to his quarters open and toed out of his waraji.

"If you feel like going out tonight we can. Even though it's nothin' but shinigami around here, I doubt you wanna stay cooped up in my barracks all the time. We can go out ta eat, or for a drink-"

The redhead stopped abruptly when he felt a gloved hand on his forearm. Strong fingers curled around his wrist securely, and he felt the faint, smooth pass of a leather-clad thumb against his skin.

"You seem anxious, shinigami-san."

Renji's eyebrows screwed up, but he couldn't help smirking slightly as he looked at Starrk over his shoulder. "Why do you do that?"

"You're asking me again?"

" 'cause I wanna understand," the redhead answered honestly.

The Primera just let go of his arm, and leaned his shoulder against the wall as he closed the shouji slowly. "Why do I do what?"

"Refuse ta say names. It's always 'shinigami-san,' or 'fukutaichou-san,' or 'taichou-san.' But never 'Hey, Renji-san.' It's frustrating as hell when I keep telling you to use my name."

This had bothered the redhead continuously since he'd met Coyote Starrk. There were times when he let it slide because he was too preoccupied with something else to bother hounding the stubborn Primera. But he never forgot, and he'd thought about it enough that he even came up with a theory: Maybe Coyote Starrk refused to say anyone's name because it was his little way of resisting assimilation. Renji didn't think Starrk despised shinigami like Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez did, but they _had _been enemies at one time, and perhaps Starrk was still hesitant, in some small way, to let himself become too comfortable with Seireitei's inhabitants.

Maybe insistently using "shinigami-san" to refer to everyone was his way of distancing himself from them.

The man in question watched him, and slid around sluggishly so he was leaning against his back instead of his shoulder. He placed his hands in his pockets, and held Renji's gaze when he finally spoke.

"Because everyone I tried to be with wasted away before I met Aizen, and I got to a point that I didn't need to bother with names. I knew the owners of those names wouldn't be there very long, anyway."

It was said so simply, and so straightforwardly, that Renji found himself at a loss for words. He already knew about Starrk's painful past, but to think that it had created a habitual isolation so great that the man decided he needn't bother with names at all. . .

The redhead, taken with sorrow for this Arrancar standing in front of him, reached out his hand instinctively. He wanted to tell Coyote Starrk that he didn't have to worry about that anymore, and that it was safe to say Renji's name if he wanted to. But before he could get the words out, the dark-haired Primera stepped closer and encased Renji's extended hand between his own. The redhead twitched in surprise, but Starrk held fast with tranquil calm as he stared down at their hands.

"There were a few I called by name. Aizen Sousuke was one of them."

The tattooed lieutenant of the Sixth stiffened, as knee-jerk confusion quickly became apprehension. He wasn't sure why Starrk was bringing up Aizen, but he had a sinking feeling that the other man was about to tell him something significant.

And _significant _and Aizen Sousuke were not two concepts that Renji wanted to hear in the same breath.

"Earlier you mentioned this thing called 'love.' I think no matter what I tell you, you'll be disappointed with my answer. I get the feeling that a lot of things I tell you are a disappointment, shinigami-san. But like I already said before, what would an Arrancar know about things like that? You say comfort is like it. . . Well, when Aizen found us, we were surrounded by mountains of dead hollows. He asked if we were responsible, and I told him that they had died on their own. That's when he asked us to join him, and I thought he looked strong enough to stay with us without dying. So I went with him, and for the first time in my life I got to be around others without them wasting away. I didn't have to be alone anymore, and it was all due to Aizen's recruitment."

He paused then, and his expression was unbelievably serene as he continued staring at their joined hands. Renji's expression, on the other hand, was contorted by deeply furrowed brows as he tried to figure out whether or not Starrk was telling him that he'd been _in love_ with fucking _Aizen Sousuke._

"I'd always been a lone wolf, although not by choice. Even when I had Lilynette after we split our soul, it still felt like we were lone wolves because we were one in the same. But then I met Aizen Sousuke, and in the end. . .he gave me more than just strong allies I could be with. After enough nights with him I started to see that he was just as alone as I'd been. He was another lone wolf, and ravenous for something. . . Then I eventually learned, that just like me, the sheer strength of his power had alienated him from others."

Starrk's eyebrows had furrowed, and he squeezed Renji's hand briefly before letting go. He transferred those gloved hands of his to the pockets of his hakama, and finally met the redhead's gaze for the first time since he'd started talking about Aizen Sousuke. Renji found the man's eyes hard to read, and his expression all together perplexing when it appeared. . ._unhappy, _despite him saying that it was a situation he actually took comfort in.

"Besides, he had 'Water Moon' in the name of his zanpakutou. And a wolf is destined to howl at the moon all its life, isn't it?"

Renji was already staggered by the Primera's unexpectedly intimate relationship with the most notorious and arguably _monstrous _man in all of Soul Society. But that last sentence was what really rattled him to his core, because it sounded too frighteningly familiar.

Familiar because he'd once been told a similar story, about a monkey who tried desperately to capture the moon. But the moon the monkey saw was only a reflection on a lake, and each time the monkey sunk to the bottom to no avail. . .

The only difference between his story and Starrk's, was that it seemed that for a time, however short it may have been, Starrk had actually succeeded in capturing his water moon.

Or maybe it would have been more appropriate to say that his water moon had captured _him, _because Aizen Sousuke had been the one to find and recruit Coyote Starrk. Renji just had to wonder who chased after whom once Starrk agreed to join Aizen's ranks.

He already knew who'd been chasing who between him and Byakuya.

"So, shinigami-san. Are you disappointed like you were when I told you that your tattoos reminded me of someone else?"

The redhead flinched away from those words, and simply stared at the other man in disbelief. There was nothing of eloquence or real substance that he could think to say. He knew he shouldn't have been that surprised, considering Starrk had been a soldier in Aizen's army for who knew how long. He also knew he was a jackass for reacting the way he was when he'd been interested in Starrk's sexual past since the very beginning. He should have prepared himself for anything, and he certainly didn't have the right to judge when he'd been the one pushing and prodding with morbid curiosity.

But. . .regardless of what he _knew,_ he couldn't help _feeling _an entirely different way.

"Is that where you learned how ta 'comfort another'?" he finally muttered, quietly. "From someone like _Aizen Sousuke?_"

There was a long, tense pause as Coyote Starrk stared at him without blinking. The Primera's expression was near impossible to read, until his thin brows furrowed slightly.

"What exactly are you asking me?"

"Aizen Sousuke was a fucking egomaniacal _sociopath._ _Everyone _was expendable. You say the sheer strength of his power alienated him from others, and that he was _alone?_ Well maybe that power wouldn't have alienated him if he hadn't used it ta _hurt _people. An' maybe he wouldn't have been alone if he hadn't tried ta kill his own fucking fukutaichou, an' hadn't waged war against Soul Society!"

The former Espada hadn't looked away from Renji once, but his eyes had widened and the rest of his face appeared to be frozen. After a moment that expression thawed, softening into something that resembled sullen confusion.

"That. . .doesn't answer my question, shinigami-san. You asked me if I learned how to comfort another from someone like Aizen Sousuke?"

Renji's eyes narrowed and his voice became low and tight when he next spoke. "If you were that involved with someone like _him_-"

"If you're trying to say what I think you're trying to say," Starrk interrupted, his tone controlled but slowly calculated, "then let me ask you this instead. Did my kiss feel like the kiss of an egomaniacal sociopath?"

Renji's eyebrows screwed together, and he blinked his surprise reflexively, while his mind seemed to react sluggishly. Had Starrk's kiss felt like the kiss of an egomaniacal sociopath? He'd been too preoccupied wondering what in the hell the other man had seen in _Aizen Sousuke_ - despite already revealing the how's and why's of their relationship - and how they'd actually _been _together, to even once consider the relationship _he _had built with Coyote Starrk since meeting him in the Living World.

Now that he was being asked directly, he was forced to abandon thoughts of Aizen Sousuke and Coyote Starrk _comforting _each other because of their combined solitude, and instead focus his thoughts on the "comfort" the Primera had provided _him _just the other night.

Renji wasn't sure he knew what the kiss of an egomaniacal sociopath would have felt like in the first place, seeing as the people he'd been with in the past hadn't been egomaniacal sociopaths (that he knew of, anyway). But one thing he _did _know, was that Starrk's kiss had been slow, composed, and. . .

_Tender._

"I had hoped that question wouldn't need this much thought."

This time the redhead refocused his thoughts not on the memory of Starrk's kiss, but the man himself. He wasn't looking at Renji anymore, but something about his severed gaze actually looked _irritated _beneath the quiet calm of his offhand expression. Without another word, he suddenly pushed the shouji open with what Renji swore was more force than really necessary. Then he walked out of the redhead's quarters with a nonchalance that insulted the gravity of the situation, and Renji blinked his eyes wide.

"Hey! Just where the hell do you think you're going?"

He followed the other man into the hallway outside and grabbed his arm so he couldn't retreat further.

"_Where _are you going?" he asked again, eyes darting back and forth between Starrk's searchingly.

"I'm thinking I'll find Grimmjow's quarters and stay there for the night."

When Renji's eyebrows furrowed with obvious bemusement, the former Espada just dislodged the redhead's hand with cold detachment.

"I don't think you'd be comfortable if I stayed with you, shinigami-san. I think I've intruded enough as it is and disrupted your life, so I'd like to give you a night to yourself."

"You're still my responsibility an' I can't let you go anywhere without mine or someone else's supervision."

"Then show me to Grimmjow's quarters," Starrk challenged him. "Make sure I get there without harming anyone. Although, by now, you should know that wouldn't be an issue. Even if I _wanted _to hurt one of you, you've already done a good job ensuring that I wouldn't be able to."

He started backing away slowly and pulled his uniform aside, so he could remind Renji of the limiter stamped on his chest, in the shape of the Sixth's camellia.

"What could I do in a position like this? Besides, crashing on your futon and feeling like I'm somewhere I don't belong is too much of a pain in the ass anyway."

Renji's eyebrows knit together that much further, and he watched the other man turn around so his back was the only thing visible as he continued walking away.

"But one more thing, shinigami-san. You shouldn't ask questions if you're not prepared to hear the answers. You said you wanted to understand, but I don't think you're ready to."

That was the final straw. The redhead glowered at Coyote Starrk and stomped after him. He gripped the other man's arm once more, then yanked him back towards his quarters.

"And _you _shouldn't flirt with someone then tell 'em all about your past flings. 'specially if those past flings involve assholes like _Aizen Sousuke_."

"Shinigami-san, don't tell me you're upset because you're _jealous_-"

Renji just pulled the Primera inside and shut the shouji behind them. He then lead the other man towards the bedroom, and left him standing in the doorway as he pulled a spare futon out of large cabinet that he used to store his belongings.

"Think I feel more violated than jealous. Let's get one thing straight, Coyote Starrk. I'm not gonna be some fuckin' substitute for a girl who had tattoos like mine, and I'm not gonna be another 'lone wolf' ta keep ya company when you're lonely. Think what you will 'bout yourself, but I won't be howling at the moon all my life."

If anything, he'd been told that he was a monkey snapping his fangs at it. And those fangs had already grazed it, so one day. . .

But the former Espada didn't know about any of that, so his delicate brows just furrowed with puzzlement as he watched Renji. The redhead dropped the futon on the floor, pushed it against the wall opposite his own, then narrowed his eyes at the Primera and jabbed a finger at him.

"Like I said before, you shouldn't go around tryin' ta 'comfort' people whose names you can't even say. You're staying here tonight whether you like it or not, 'cause you're meant to be my responsibility until further notice. Don't take me for someone who doesn't take their responsibilities seriously, Coyote Starrk. You'll stay here where I can keep an eye on you, and don't let me catch you somewhere else when I wake up tomorrow morning."

When Renji saw the corner of Starrk's mouth twitch suspiciously, he just squinted harder and cocked his eyebrow expectantly.

"You should be authoritative more often, shinigami-san."

"Oh, sure. I guess you'd get off on 'authoritative' after _Aizen-sama._"

"Don't flirt with me unless you plan on going through with it."

Renji felt heat in his face, so he turned away quickly to gather pillows and blankets for the other man. "Just listen ta what I say and don't become another Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez."

There was a moment's pause, and then Starrk's voice sounded more serious than it had before.

"Remember, shinigami-san. You're the one who asked me about my past because you couldn't contain your curiosity. It'd be cruel to hold it against me now."

Frowning, the red-haired lieutenant just dropped the pillows and blankets on the Primera's futon. He chose not to respond as he stared at the other man, who stared back unhappily before lowering his gaze to the futon. He moved closer to it slowly, and Renji wondered how he was supposed to strip out of his uniform and into his sleeping yukata with Coyote Starrk in the same room.

Short-sightedness be damned. . .

* * *

_Oooh, whaoh the coral fang  
Sinking in to make you well_  
_Oooh, whaoh the coral fang_  
_Sinking in to make you ill_

_It's come to rape what you hide (what you hide, what you hide)_  
_It fills the years with reprise, disgust, disguise_  
_I'll burn my own funeral pyre_  
_And from your mouth I will rise, I'll rise, I'll-_

_[Chorus]_

_When the fang sinks down in (sinks down in)_  
_Makes your eyes white and roll right into him_  
_When the coral stains the skin (stains the skin)_  
_Disease is cheap, scars are polished clean. . ._

- "Coral Fang" by The Distillers


	6. Chapter 5

_When I get to the bottom of it I sink  
Seems like nothing I said  
Ever meant anything  
But a headline over my head  
Thought I made a stand  
Only made a scene  
There's no feast for the underfed  
All the unknown dying are dead  
Keep showing up in my dreams  
They stand at the end of my bed  
Have I ever really helped  
Anybody but myself?  
To believe in the power of songs  
To believe in the power of girls  
Though the point we're making is gone  
Played stripped down to my bone_

_[x6] I'll shut up and carry on  
The scream becomes a yawn. . ._ - "Dreams So Real" by Metric

* * *

After Renji realized that he'd invited the Arrancar into his room before he undressed, he had decided, despite his annoyance, to give Starrk one of his yukatas so the man wouldn't have to sleep in his uniform. Starrk had been lying on his back when Renji dropped the yukata on his head, and told him to keep it there until he'd changed out of his uniform. He'd only received a silent thumbs up to indicate Starrk's compliance.

The entire time he'd kept his eyes narrowed on the other man, just to make sure there'd be no peeking. And there hadn't been any, as far as he could tell, as Starrk remained still on his back with his fingers interlaced atop his chest. He'd looked unnervingly _dead,_ but Renji had just assumed the man had simply fallen asleep. There was a yukata on his face - which _had _to restrict his breathing - but given what the redhead had seen of Coyote Starrk's sleeping habits, nothing seemed capable of dissuading his fatigue.

It hadn't been until Renji was under the cover of his sheets that the Primera had suddenly sat up. The yukata had fallen into his lap, and his eyes looked dazed and sleepily unaware. Renji had watched, silently and with one eye cracked open, as Starrk pulled fabric free of his hakama and slipped leisurely out of the top half of his uniform. Replacing the black and white robes with Renji's singular yukata a moment later, he had then fell onto his back so he could arch his hips towards the ceiling. Renji had tried not to stare as Starrk slid his hakama down and kicked his legs free, but he'd found he was still too anxious with irritation and mistrust to allow himself to take his eye off the former Espada for even a second.

Starrk hadn't bothered to tie his yukata closed. He had toed out of his tabi, had reclined comfortably - with his fundoshi and a good amount of his flesh exposed - until he finally pulled the blankets over himself.

There'd been just two things Starrk hadn't removed (besides his fundoshi), and Renji was looking at them right now as he stood by the man's futon with his arms crossed. He'd already changed out of his yukata, had taken a quick shower, then put on a clean uniform. Now all he had to do was wake the former Espada, get him dressed, then drop him off with Rikichi.

But instead he was too busy staring at the man's gloved hands, and wondering what Starrk was hiding inside those white-leather casings.

Wondering what else he could be hiding besides his bare hands. . .

Sometime during the night Starrk had turned on his side so he was facing the wall. The arm he was resting on - his left - was bent parallel to his body, while his right was thrown over his head so his face was concealed and his hand dangled along his wavy brown hair.

He looked strangely_ fetal, _and not as comfortable as he'd appear two nights before when he'd been sleeping around Renji's pillow.

Frowning slightly, the redhead continued to stare at the other man in a silence that felt increasingly dense. He didn't even know what to think anymore when it came to the dark-haired Arrancar. When he'd first met Coyote Starrk, he'd perceived the man to be uncharacteristically _harmless _as far as Arrancar went. He'd been with the Vizard, had spent most of his time sleeping, and when Renji had finally spoken to him face to face, he'd found that, apparently, he wasn't the least bit interested in fighting.

In fact, he'd been so lazy and disassociated that he almost appeared to be unbearably _lifeless._ And yet. . . Renji had grown inexplicably attached, for whatever reason, and found himself _worried _when he found out they'd be taking Coyote Starrk back to Soul Society. He'd found himself believing that the former Primera - despite being an enemy of theirs - didn't deserve a fate like Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez's. And he'd found himself _relieved _(although a little surprised) when Starrk wound up in his care, instead of being sent to the Twelfth or the Ujimushi no Su.

Now, he just found himself. . ._contrite,_ almost, that he'd been so adamant about Starrk's apparent "harmlessness." Maybe he should have listened to Hisagi all along, and been more cautious, because as _innocuous _as the Primera portrayed himself to be, no lover of fucking _Aizen Sousuke _could be completely innocuous.

Could they. . .?

Renji sighed quietly and hung his head as he closed his eyes. Was he right for judging Starrk so harshly? He didn't know what it was like to be a hollow living in Hueco Mundo. To what extremes could that barren, hostile terrain drive someone to? Its inhabitants had certainly been driven to devouring each other just to survive, hadn't they?

He slowly began to wonder if he shouldn't consider it a _testament _to Starrk's character that he actually _wanted_ companionship, and not just victims to advance his own standing; or just to amuse some hollowesque appetite for inflicting pain. Instead, when he could have split his power into a _weapon _like all the other Arrancar, he'd decided to split it into a _ person_; in what sounded like a last ditch effort to maintain a relationship with someone who couldn't waste away. He had experienced loneliness and despondency, and he actually _mourned _the death of his fracción, when he could have easily disregarded it. Where other Arrancar devoured their fracción like they meant absolutely nothing, Starrk seemed to genuinely cherish his own. . .

The more Renji thought about it, the more he started to wonder if he shouldn't actually be _comforted _by Starrk's ability to. . .fuck. His ability to _empathize _when Renji had yet to witness another Arrancar doing the same. Coyote Starrk was unique in that he was capable of forming bonds, or at least _wanting _to form bonds.

Wait.

Would empathizing with an egomaniacal sociopath mean he was an egomaniacal sociopath himself?

_"Did my kiss feel like the kiss of an egomaniacal sociopath?"_

Renji bit back a groan of frustration and narrowed his eyes at the man sleeping at his feet. _Why _couldn't he figure the bastard out? Why did he even _want _to? And who the fuck was he to judge, anyway? Once upon a time he'd gone to the Living World and tried beating the living shit out of a kid he didn't even know. He'd been relentless in his pursuit, and then he dragged his childhood friend back to Soul Society just so she could be executed.

Of course, at the time, he'd thought her adoptive brother would put a stop to the execution. . .

But even so, he'd done things he wasn't proud of. And although he considered having an intimate relationship with the likes of Aizen Sousuke to be one _hell _of a thing not to be proud of, was it any worse than helping death itself attempt to claim his best friend?

The guilt had eaten away at him, without a doubt. . . But as it currently was, he liked to think he had redeemed himself, at least somewhat, when he abandoned his pride and begged Ichigo to save Rukia; and abandoned his loyalty to Soul Society so he could fight his own captain. When he ran away from all his indignant and incredulous comrades on Souyuku Hill, Rukia secure in his arms, then faced Aizen himself (_death _itself), and did all within his power to keep her safe.

What he'd sought - and continued to seek - was _redemption._ And staring at Coyote Starrk now, asleep and mysterious, he wondered if the former Espada sought the same. If he even _wanted _it, or if he was even aware of such a concept to begin with.

Tilting his head back, Renji eyed the Arrancar skeptically as he used his foot to nudge him.

"Starrk."

The Primera swayed slightly, but other than that he remained unaffected by Renji's prodding. The redhead's brow furrowed faintly, and he pressed his toes harder against Starrk's slender back.

"Co-yo-te Starrk."

Still no response, and the red-haired lieutenant scowled impatiently as he knelt down, slid his hand under Starrk's arm so he could cup the man's face, then yanked it towards him.

"_Starrk._"

The former Espada finally jolted, jumping in his sleep, and snapped his eyes wide open so he could see his impromptu disturber. Renji stared into those startled gray eyes for a moment, and couldn't help smirking roguishly as he smacked Starrk's cheek a few times.

"It's about fuckin' time. Gotta say that I see why some people would shove their fingers down your throat."

"Don't think about doing that," the other man protested, his voice throaty with sleep. He was squinting at the redhead above him, looking vaguely bewildered and blinded, before he threw both arms protectively over his face. "I like your method better," he grumbled between them.

"Doesn't seem as effective ta me. You still have time ta get a shower before we gotta go. I'll see about getting you more uniforms, but for now you'll just hafta settle for the one you wore yesterday."

"Why can't I wear one of yours?"

Renji's serrated brow nipped his headband. "Don't think they'd fit. I've got a bigger build."

And Starrk just slid his arms up to rest against his forehead. He stared at Renji for a moment, his expression calm, but he appeared to be thinking about something deeply. The redhead would go so far as to say Starrk looked _hesitant, _and maybe even a little troubled, so he just held out his hand and remained carefully expressionless. Gray eyes studied the proffered appendage, and when leather-clad fingers finally slid over his palm, Renji gripped Starrk's hand and pulled the man with him as he came to a stand.

He tried (and failed miserably) to ignore the man's exposed body - save for his fundoshi and the thin yukata that hung off his lean frame like fabric on a hanger - when the blanket pooled around his feet.

Renji quickly let go of the Primera's hand, and covered his discomfort with a lazily lopsided grin.

"Ten minutes."

Starrk didn't respond in words, but he nodded acquiescence as he bent down to gather his shinigami's uniform into his arms, then brushed past Renji.

When their sides connected, the tattooed redhead chose to disregard the strange prickle that it conjured.

* * *

Once he was showered and dressed, Starrk was left with Rikichi like the day before. He didn't protest, but as he watched the tall, red-haired lieutenant walk away, he found himself distantly agitated that he wasn't allowed to follow.

He hadn't expected things to turn in the direction that they had. He hadn't expected Renji to ask him those kinds of questions, and he thought now that maybe he'd jumped the gun when he answered them as candidly as he did. He'd started to feel so comfortable around the tattooed shinigami that he'd let his guard down, and now he was regretting not keeping his distance.

But he hadn't been cautious enough to keep his distance because he hadn't _wanted _to. Because Abarai Renji. . .

Abarai Renji had stirred him just enough that he couldn't detach himself as easily as he'd been able to prior to meeting the fiery redhead. And even before he'd met the tattooed shinigami, he'd already resolved not to detach himself like he was instinctively used to, because. . .

. . .he'd already lived a life of loss, so rampant and unavoidable that he thought he'd long since gotten used to it. But he should have known better when the death of Baraggan left him shaken, and the death of Lilynette rendered him even more lifeless than he'd already felt to begin with, all those days that he tried sleeping his existence away because he just couldn't stomach the loneliness that plagued him.

He'd realized, not long after the war had ended, that it'd all been a grave mistake. That all the hours he'd spent sleeping his life away, he could have spent with the comrades Aizen had introduced him to. He'd hauled himself up in his private quarters, away from the others, and remained alone and lonely even though he'd been given what he'd always wanted. He knew now, and even then, that it'd been out of a fear that he never cared to voice. He knew they were strong enough to handle him, seeing as that was Aizen's entire selling point, but he'd already been so deeply scarred by the deaths of countless others (those he had considered his friends), that he'd found himself distancing himself out of reflex.

And at the battle of Fake Karakura Town, he'd found himself reluctant to fight the enemy seriously because he'd already witnessed enough death, and felt he couldn't tolerate much more. So he tried convincing himself, stupidly, that he could avoid the carnage of war; only the death of Baraggan had made him realize just how serious things actually were, and that Aizen wasn't going to get them out of it.

Baraggan's defeat nailed shut not his coffin alone, but all of theirs. Or so Starrk had felt. Both his and Harribel's, as well as the other Espada back in Hueco Mundo, whose fates remained unknown but doomed all the same, as far as he was concerned. And he'd thought he was partly to blame for it all, for being so irresponsibly disinclined and in denial.

He _knew _he was to blame for his own defeat, and Lilynette's undue passing as a result.

If he had it to do all over again, he'd like to give it his all from the very beginning, so Baraggan and Lilynette and no one else had to die.

But because he could never do it all over again, he thought he'd at least learn from his mistake and do his best to discourage a repeat. He was so tired of losing everyone around him (if the amount of sleeping he did didn't already indicate just _how _tired), and he never wanted to suffer the experience it again, if he could help it.

So of course, he now felt a gnawing trace of anxiety when he thought of losing Abarai Renji. He'd only known the man for a short time, but in that time he'd come to think that Renji was strong enough to be a friend, even though they were Arrancar and shinigami. . .

Strong enough to be _more _than a friend, Starrk knew he'd thought deep down, because he couldn't deny that he'd been attracted to Abarai Renji since the moment he first laid sleepy eyes on the tattooed redhead in the Vizard's basement. He'd seen that toothy smile and those warm red-brown eyes, and he'd thought, instantly, that he'd found someone who might actually be worth a damn. He'd met someone like no one else he'd ever known before, and maybe everything that had happened to him up until that point had been leading him to that one moment of wild red, wicked black, and glinting white.

It would have seemed unreasonably premature if he hadn't felt _calmed _in a way that he'd never experienced before. He'd become so instantaneously _relaxed _in the shinigami's presence, as to trump any memory of "relaxation" he thought he may have known whenever he slept. And when Hisagi Shuuhei had shown up at the Vizard's warehouse to let him know (with eyes that were strangely apologetic) that he'd be taken to Soul Society, he hadn't been angry or vexed. He'd actually been_ relieved, _knowing that he'd get to exist somewhere near Abarai Renji, even if it was within "enemy" territory.

Actually _living _with the redhead had come as a surprise, but it was the closest he'd been to another since Lilynette. And being so intimately _near _Renji quickly became more than Starrk could have hoped for, and hearing the way the other man laughed, or watching the way he smiled, was something that fascinated an Arrancar who'd come to know little of anything that didn't revolve around malice, emptiness, and death.

And that was the exceptional _thing _about Abarai Renji that the Primera had immediately taken notice of. He was so beautifully _alive _that Starrk felt he'd had no choice but to fall for him.

He was, he conceded, powerless to resist the shinigami's warmth, and all the unadulterated _life _that radiated from him.

So now he also couldn't resist the painful ache burning up his skin, and settled deep in his bones, when he thought he'd driven Renji away. All he'd wanted was to be honest with the other man, because he'd thought it was the least he could do to respect the shinigami's kindness. Even if his honesty was limited to his past involvement - and not his present infatuation - it was still more than he would have given anyone else.

Only he was slowly realizing that he'd just made another mistake, and he really was hopeless at navigating this illusive experience otherwise known as life. . .

. . .or maybe he'd made his _first _mistake even sooner than that, when he'd kissed the other man. He hadn't planned it, at least not so soon; but watching Renji's eyes flash ruby-red in the moonlight, and learning just how _devoted _he could be to a companion he'd known since childhood, had been too much for Starrk to withstand. Normally he wasn't so forward (not in the slightest), but under the rare occasion (_very rare_) that his interest was unpredictably piqued, he could be surprisingly quick to act.

He'd done the same (or something vaguely similar, anyway) during his battle with the two captains- when he'd suddenly decided that he wanted to see their bankais, and went so far as to utilize his pain-in-the-ass resurrección just to coax them out.

But that _kiss_. . .had been not only unexpected in its unforeseen execution, but its. . .its. . .

It'd been too soon. It'd been too soon and Starrk was met, rightfully, with the redhead's confusion and suspicion. Not only did they hardly know each other, but they were shinigami and _Arrancar._ And establishing a comfortable friendship - let alone something more intimate - took _time, _he should've known, for those around him.

But he hadn't considered that, because unbeknownst to the redhead, Starrk felt that _time _was something _he _hadn't the privilege of indulging. While others could easily appreciate small fleeting moments or treat themselves to long courtships, the Primera had always been stricken knowing that no moment for him was long enough. No moment could _last,_ and he had to act _right then_ if he hoped to experience _just a little more _before the other person vanished right before his eyes.

Although it'd been too soon for the redhead - Starrk had surmised by the other man's reluctance to let it happen a second time - it hadn't been too soon for _him._

And it never could have been, after he'd experienced so much loss that he suffered a deep-rooted paranoia, so subtle but permanent, that those around were hardly aware of it, while he remained perpetually haunted in a personal hell of solitude.

So he'd had his reasons, but what good were they if he was the only one who knew about them, and therefore the only one capable of understanding them? He could justify his own actions until he was blue in the face, but Renji would be oblivious to his plight if those justifications remained internalized.

His first mistake had been kissing the redhead too soon, he was sure of it in retrospect now, but he'd only dug his hole deeper when instead of explaining his intentions, he'd been so mistakenly sidetracked that he'd gotten ahead of himself. Instead of taking the time to dispel Renji's suspicions concerning his sudden advance, all he did was add fuel to the fire when he told the other man that he'd fucked Aizen Sousuke.

The one man who just so happened to be Soul Society's_ number one enemy._

Brows furrowing, Starrk closed his eyes and hunched like his stomach ached. He didn't want it like this. He'd already lost so much, that _he'd_ been to blame for, and he'd told himself that he couldn't let it happen again. That he_ wouldn't _let it happen again.

"Um, Starrk-san. . . Are you okay?"

The man in question cracked one eye open and glanced at the boy walking beside him. Rikichi was looking up at him with quietly concerned eyes, and his fingers curled around the rope that held his supply kit in place.

Opening his other eye, Starrk straightened up sluggishly. "What do you think of me, Rikichi-san?"

"What do I think of you?" repeated the other in confusion.

"What's your first impression?"

Rikichi still looked slightly perplexed, but his brows furrowed as he appeared to give the question serious thought. "I think, that for an Arrancar, you seem surprisingly nice. And that isn't what I expected, especially after everything I've heard about Jaegerjaquez-san. . ."

The young man seemed slightly sheepish by then, but Starrk just smiled faintly. "Of course not, shinigami-san."

Turning his head away, his steps slowed gradually until he was standing completely still. Speak of the fucking devil. . . His brows furrowed faintly as he glanced around.

"Now that you mention it, I think I sense the Sexta somewhere nearby, Rikichi-san," he informed his companion calmly. But the young shinigami didn't react in kind.

"Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez-san?" he asked, sounding vaguely flustered as his eyes darted around before following Starrk's gaze to the sky above.

The Primera glanced down, and remained silent as he studied the boy standing beside him. He knew Rikichi was unseated, and although he hadn't seen the kid fight, he couldn't imagine him being very strong. Definitely not strong enough to stand a chance against Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez, anyway, and given what had already happened, Starrk didn't trust his blue-haired comrade to control himself. It was likely that Grimmjow was still angry with him, and the Primera didn't want the young Rikichi caught in the crossfire.

The boy jumped when Starrk put his hand on his shoulder, but the former Espada just tightened his grip as he stared into startled eyes.

"I think I'd better see what he wants, and I wouldn't want an innocent bystander such as yourself getting caught between the two of us after what happened just the other night. It was one thing when he took on an entire bar of shinigami- members of the Eleventh, too. I've been told they live for fighting?"

Rikichi's eyes widened slightly, and Starrk just smiled slowly. He didn't necessarily _want _to intimidate the kid, but if it frightened him off so he was out of danger, then so be it. Transferring his hand to his pocket, he started backing away as he put a white finger against his mouth and narrowed his eyes warningly.

"Don't bother Renji-san with this if it's going to get you in trouble."

"I'd get in bigger trouble if I didn't let him know!"

Starrk gave a tilt of his head contemplatively as he continued backing away, his eyes positioned skyward. "I guess you're probably right. I'm sorry to put you in a compromising situation, Rikichi-san, but when certain Arrancar get restless it's best to stay out of their way. Just let Renji-san know it was all my fault. I called the Sexta down so we could strategize a revolt."

"Starrk-san!"

Without waiting to hear another word of protest, Starrk used sonído to flash away. Although his power was suppressed so he couldn't put up a good fight if he needed to, he was at least capable of using sonído to get around normally.

Using his exceptional speed to maneuver quickly from one rooftop to another, he got as far away from Rikichi as he could before Grimmjow officially showed up.

And when the blue-haired Arrancar suddenly appeared on the same roof, Starrk came to a relaxed halt. There was a good ten feet between them, and the Sexta regarded him with cold, icy blue eyes that sparked with contradictory heat.

"Your face should be black an' blue," the man snapped, breaking the silence with his impatiently rough voice. Starrk just shrugged his shoulders apathetically and remained where he was.

"Maybe you've just gotten rusty?"

The Sexta's upper lip curled in the mother of all snarls.

"They just healed it. My cheekbone was broken, actually," the Primera disclosed dispassionately. "But it's nothing to be embarrassed about, if you are rusty. I think any Arrancar could get rusty in a place like this. It's not like they train with you, do they?"

Gray eyes roving, Starrk gave Grimmjow a quick once-over. He'd already noticed the other night that the Sexta had been put in a shinigami's uniform, but aside from the change in color, it really didn't appear any different from his old uniform. The top half of it was being used like his old jacket; open and torn along the hem as it exposed the man's deeply scarred torso.

Starrk's brow furrowed faintly as he examined Grimmjow's bared flesh. "Do you have a reiatsu limiter anywhere?"

"Fuck no. They couldn't shackle this beast for long."

The blue-haired Arrancar flashed a cocky grin, his eyes hard and narrowed. But that grin twitched when his gaze slid to Starrk's throat.

"Looks like you don't have one either."

Starrk's brow arched as he pulled his uniform aside to reveal the Sixth's camellia. "No, it's right here."

And Grimmjow's short blue brows screwed up as he stomped closer to get a better look. "The fuck is that?"

The Primera felt as confused as Grimmjow looked. "It's some kind of kidou they use."

"My limiter was a fucking_ collar._"

Starrk's brow wrinkled, and fiery blue eyes snapped to his. The Sexta looked angry and _offended,_ almost, but he just ended up inclining his jaw haughtily. "Guess you have enough shit as is it 'round your throat, but a fuckin' _flower _stamped on your chest when I had ta wear a damned collar?"

"It doesn't seem fair, does it?"

The blue-haired Arrancar snorted and barked a condescending laugh. "_Fair? _Don't paint my words with pansy ass shinigami concepts. Chances are these bastards were just kinkier when it came ta me. Y'know, seein' as I'm sex on two legs." He cocked his brow and grinned, his tongue passing over his teeth, and Starrk just arched his own brow skeptically.

"Maybe, if it was the horned shinigami who put it on you."

Grimmjow's smug expression vanished in an instant, and returned to its habitual hostility. "What?"

"How'd you get a shinigami into bed with you?" Starrk wondered sincerely. He thought that maybe he could learn something from Grimmjow's supposed sexual involvement with the horned shinigami known as Akon, even if he didn't think any tactic of Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez's could be used effectively on a man like Abarai Renji.

"The fuck are you talking about?" muttered the other man guardedly.

"You have strange bruises all over you," Starrk observed calmly. He glanced over the numerous kiss marks that littered Grimmjow's naked torso - studied one that was dangerously (and intriguingly) low on his waist - then settled on one particular bruise marring the other man's neck. He pointed at it and swirled his finger. "I don't think they're from fighting. That one there looks like teeth marks. His name's Akon, right? His horns are striking, considering he's a shinigami. I think he could even pass for an Arrancar, so I don't blame you."

Grimmjow smacked the Primera's hand out of the air. "That's none of your fuckin' business."

"Right." Starrk nodded his agreement. "You fucking a shinigami is none of my business, just like whether or not I choose to have a drink with shinigami should be none of yours."

The Sexta's eyes narrowed, and his lip curled slightly as he snarled, "Why'd I hafta get stuck with _you _of all the Espada?"

"Was there anyone else you'd rather have? It wasn't like you were friendly with any of us."

"It ain't about bein' _friendly. _That's your fuckin' problem. You'd rather be _friendly _than _fight _like you're fuckin' supposed to."

The Primera's brow furrowed. He was getting tired of being told that he needed to fight, even though he'd made it clear countless times that he never _wanted _to.

"I don't think I'm obligated to fight just because I'm an Arrancar," he said tersely.

And in response to that, Grimmjow's eyes blew wide with disbelief. "Do you even fuckin' hear yourself half the time? Shit! I'd rather be stuck with that fuckin' bastard _Nnoitra. _At least he understood what we are."

Starrk's brows furrowed that much deeper, and he closed his eyes briefly as he inhaled through his nose. His hands were held securely within the pockets of his hakama, but he felt he could actually _hear _the leather cracking as his fingers curled and clenched. In a sense Grimmjow was right, but only by half. Starrk _didn't_ understand, but what he didn't understand wasn't what they "were." What he didn't understand was this attitude that wanted to pigeonhole who _he _was. The other Espada could think of themselves as a collective fighting machine for all he cared, but no matter how desperately he wanted to be a part of a pack, he was an individual in his own right. And although he'd already acknowledged that his passivity had failed Lilynette, he still didn't appreciate the implication that he needed to adhere to the Arrancars' norm to fight simply for fighting's sake.

If he ever adhered and fought, it was because he felt the need to protect those around him. Not because he got a kick - like Grimmjow and some of the others - out of beating the living shit out of anything unlucky enough to pass within his line of sight.

"What's there to understand, exactly?" he finally asked, opening his eyes so he could stare into Grimmjow's. "Explain to me why all Arrancar have to behave a certain way simply because they're Arrancar."

Grimmjow barked another booming laugh, and Starrk just narrowed his eyes faintly.

"Haven't you gotten fuckin' high an' mighty? Did you knock your head during battle and forget why you were there in the first place? You joined Aizen's _army,_ and you knew what he had planned. Armies are for _fighting, _in case your stupid ass didn't already know. So where the fuck do you get off actin' like you're better than the rest of us?"

"I didn't join him to fight. I joined him to be with others who were strong enough to be with me."

Grimmjow's eyes narrowed coldly as he leaned in so close that the Primera could feel his breath. "Did you listen to a single fuckin' word I just said? I _said _that _armies. Are. For. Fighting._ So makin' _friends _isn't wha'chya fuckin' _did, _is it?"

Starrk frowned, and found himself unable to respond. On that, Grimmjow _was _right. And maybe he was right that as Arrancar, all they really knew how to do - instinctively, and whether it was actually desired or not - was fight. Even though Starrk hadn't wanted to, that's in inevitably what he'd done in the end. He'd nearly died fighting, and that made him no different than all the other Arrancar who ended their lives the exact same way.

Leaning back, the blue-haired Sexta just tipped his head arrogantly, and regarded the Primera with cold indifference.

"Where's the girl?"

Starrk refocused his gaze, but he felt more cautiously guarded now than he had a moment before. "She didn't make it," he answered simply.

For a second, the other Arrancar actually looked taken aback, and even a little _uncomfortable. _But then he just huffed a laugh, cracked a grin, then laughed even louder.

"Ha! Hahaha! Well fuckin' _shit!_ That oughtta make you _happy,_ shouldn't it?! Now you _can't _fight. You get ta be weak an' pathetic just like you've always wanted."

Starrk stared at Grimmjow's mocking mouth and felt frozen to feeling. And that read into his tone when he next spoke, "Are _you _happy now that you're sleeping with the enemy? You've always despised shinigami, yet there you are with one's teeth marks on your neck. You're as big a contradiction as I am, so you really have little to be smug about."

"Fuck you. Fucking one of theirs just means I've won."

Starrk couldn't help snorting. Grimmjow thought he'd _won?_ What exactly did he think he'd _won?_ So he was a prisoner of war _and _a shinigami's play thing. If anyone was "winning" at his imaginary game, it had to be Seireitei.

But in reality, Starrk didn't actually care how Grimmjow chose to perceive his personal situation. He didn't care about Grimmjow's games or his private tug-of-war with Soul Society and its shinigami inhabitants. If anything, he actually felt a little _relieved _knowing that an Arrancar as hateful and destructive as Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez was establishing at least some kind of relationship with what he considered to be the enemy. As far as Starrk was concerned, the Sexta could stand to let himself get more "comfortable" within his new surroundings. It wasn't like he was going anywhere anytime soon, and if fucking a shinigami would keep him distracted long enough to keep him from attempting to rip the place apart, then that's what it took.

Starrk taunted because he didn't like Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez getting on his case when it came to fighting and being unnecessarily violent just because they were Arrancar. But he didn't want to actually _discourage _the other man's only potentially positive relationship. Without that tether, he could break free and make even more trouble for them than he already did.

"Hey!"

It had taken longer than Starrk expected, but he was just happy to finally have a way out. However, despite the intensity of his relief at the sound of that particular voice, his expression remained composed when he turned his gaze to see Abarai Renji landing beside them on the roof. The man looked graceful despite his muscular bulk, but there was also an underlying power in his every move that seemed to underscore it.

When the redhead straightened up, his dark eyes were narrowed to cautious slits.

"You can't expect two soldiers not to reminisce, shinigami-san," Starrk chose to inform him languidly.

"Ha!" Grimmjow jeered before Renji could respond. "You're no fuckin' soldier. Especially now that half your power is gone."

"No soldier, but I was still ranked Primera and I managed to make it farther than you did before capture. It's backwards, isn't it? That someone who doesn't even like fighting would be better at it than someone who revels in it."

"You might've had raw strength but you had no fuckin' substance!" Grimmjow snarled viciously in retaliation. "Anyone can make it farther when they're _running away! _You're just a fuckin' coward!"

"Is it really cowardly to respect the value of your opponent's life, even after you've been told to take it away?"

Grimmjow's eyes were wide beneath deeply furrowed brows, but Starrk became acutely aware of Abarai Renji instead when a flash of red shifted out of the corner of his eye. He glanced at the tattooed shinigami, and found the man observing him very closely.

And he couldn't help posturing slightly, by rolling his shoulders back and tilting his head just enough so the long column of his neck was arched.

"You two done bickering?" Renji finally asked, as he glanced back and forth between the two Espada with hardened eyes. "You bastards are more of a pain in the ass than a gang of brats from the 80th district of Rukongai. And those little shitheads are a real fuckin' nuisance."

"One of these days _I'll_ disappear in Rukongai and we'll see just what kinda _nuisance _ya got on your hands _then._"

"_You'll_ end up in the Ujimushi no Su before you're _ever _allowed ta live in Rukongai."

Renji turned away, seemingly dismissive, but then he paused and glanced back at Grimmjow with a wolfish grin that surprised Starrk with its playfulness. " 'sides, I didn't think a guy like you would wanna _disappear _in Rukongai. Don't you have too many shinigami you wanna beat the shit out of?"

Observing the redhead silently, Starrk tilted his head sideways and wondered if Renji had been around long enough to know that Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez was susceptible to reverse psychology. Or maybe it was simply his more aggressive nature rearing its head; like it had when they first met, and he seemed perversely interested in Starrk's power and what he could be capable of in battle.

"What, you volunteering? Want me ta stick around that badly, huh?" the blue-haired Arrancar questioned in turn, the corner of his mouth curling as he sidled closer to the redhead.

"It also isn't like you to run away, Grimmjow," Starrk thought to add to their conversation. That uplifted corner of Grimmjow's mouth faltered, before it flatlined completely as he turned hostile eyes on the other Arrancar.

"No, it fuckin' isn't. Running away is more _your _style."

"Actually, I abhor such tactics," Starrk corrected calmly. His blue-haired comrade just sneered his response.

"Why the fuck didn't you go back to Hueco Mundo when you had the chance?"

The sudden change in topic had Starrk's brow arching high. He shifted slightly as he thought it over, his hip turned lazily and his shoulders slack while his hands remained pocketed. "Well, why would I? There was nothing left for me there. Just a bunch of hollow fighting their way to the top of the food chain. I found the Vizard, and they were a good pack to run with."

There was a moment's silence as the Sexta stared at him with obvious disdain.

"You really are stupid as fuck. You just threw away your fuckin' _freedom _like it didn't mean shit."

In response to that, Starrk just released a long-suffering sigh. "You think I threw it away, and I think I just moved on."

And Grimmjow stared on, before angrily snapping his eyes away and growling under his breath. He disappeared a second later, without another word, and Starrk slowly redirected his gaze to Renji.

"You okay?" the redhead asked him, much to his surprise. The Primera mulled it over for a moment, and then he decided to answer it candidly because he was too tired to embellish.

"I'm not sure I was ever okay to begin with."

Renji's tattooed brow cinched, but he ended up crossing his arms and squinting at Starrk skeptically. "Why'd you ditch Rikichi? He could get in trouble for not being able to keep an eye on you properly, y'know."

Starrk just shrugged, and couldn't help smirking sleepily as he angled his head askance. "Grimmjow rarely discriminates when he fights. I thought Rikichi-san could get hurt, and that would've been worse, surely. Unless you shinigami don't worry as much about your own as I had assumed?"

"We all know what we signed up for, and anyone who doesn't know has no business being a shinigami in the first place."

Thin eyebrows soared, and Starrk whistled slowly. "That's surprisingly harsh coming from you, shinigami-san."

"Comin' from me?"

Swaying leisurely where he stood, the Primera studied Renji carefully. He'd said it was surprisingly harsh because, after Renji had given him such a hard time the night before for sleeping with an "egomaniacal sociopath" - not to mention that he'd sounded disgusted that Aizen had attacked his own fukutaichou - he hadn't expected the man to say something so cold regarding his own people. Of course Starrk knew that Renji probably hadn't meant it coldly, and that he was simply stating what was actually very true. And if the redhead could judge him so openly and say exactly what was on his mind, why wouldn't he say exactly what he thought about everything else?

"I guess it isn't surprisingly harsh at all. . ." he ended up voicing aloud, his tone remote and his gaze contemplative as he watched the red-haired lieutenant.

"I don't know what the hell you're talking about, but I know you didn't hafta look out for Rikichi's safety. So. . .thanks. I really appreciate it."

Starrk's brow puckered and he angled his head questioningly. "Don't tell me you think I'd let him be thrown to the wolves just because I'm an Arrancar? I think everyone should have to avoid violence if they can, shinigami-san."

" 'scuse me if I don't know _what _ta think when the rest of you Arrancar were as crazy blood-thirsty as Grimmjow," Renji grumbled in return, and the way he readjusted his crossed arms looked _defiant _as he narrowed his eyes.

"Now that isn't true. Ulquiorra-san and Harribel-san were perfectly calm. Besides, I wouldn't put anyone else down for being blood-thirsty, if I were you. The first thing you wanted to do when you met me was pick a fight. You even said you'd 'bury me,' if I remember right."

Tattooed brows furrowed deeply, and the strange look that overcame Renji's ruby-eyed gaze had Starrk hesitating. Could that be a trace of hurt, or regret, or. . .? The dark-haired Arrancar was having a hard time deciphering exactly what Renji was thinking, so instead he just turned his gaze to the massive wall that surrounded Seireitei.

"Is Rukongai beyond that wall?" he questioned, while tipping his chin in that direction.

"Why'd you wanna know?"

"Would you take me there?"

And there he went again, being impulsive when taken with abrupt interest. He didn't think that boldly revealing his true feelings was a good idea, when his last spontaneous attempt at being straightforward had resulted in a less than favorable response. He knew, logically, that he should try a different approach. One that was slower and less. . .threatening. He should try building a friendly rapport (obviously) before he tried getting his tongue in the other man's mouth (_obviously_).

Hell, he should probably try backing off completely and allow Renji to make the next move, if he was ever so inclined (although that seemed less and less likely, much to Starrk's disappointment, now that the man knew about Aizen).

And he should try trusting that neither of them were going anywhere anytime soon, and he could let that stupid thing called _time _run its course.

He could do all of that, but he found he'd rather avoid being alone than avoid getting closer to Renji. Even if he_ hadn't_ - in some parallel universe of wishful thinking - suffered damaging loss, he felt that he'd still have the overwhelming desire to bond and _mate _with others, simply because his very soul was that of a pack animal.

So he just didn't have it in him to quit cold turkey and withdraw all attempts at proximity. He just wouldn't kiss the other man unexpectedly, and he'd give more consideration to what parts of his history he should (or shouldn't) reveal.

He could control himself, again, even if he'd come to think that his self-control may have done him more harm than good. In this case he was willing to concede that it seemed necessary, and also willing to cease and desist if it meant Abarai Renji would return to something resembling _ease _when they were together.

He just wasn't willing to ignore the other man all together.

And he told himself it would have been pointless anyway, seeing as they had to live together.

But when the red-haired lieutenant just gawked at him, Starrk met Renji's gaze sideways.

"I'd like to see how you grew up."

"_Why?_" was all Renji could manage in return.

Glancing at the wall once more, Starrk frowned slightly as he considered the question. "I've been trying to imagine what it's like being an. . .orphan. But I can only imagine what it was like being a hollow in Hueco Mundo."

"That's. . . I mean, my childhood ain't some roadside _attraction. _It's not open ta tourists!"

"You wanted to know about my life in Hueco Mundo and who I'd been with," the Primera reasoned, "because you were having a hard time imagining Arrancar groping each other, right? This isn't any different, and should be even less invasive."

Pausing, he took a chance on the flustered redhead and arched his brow in challenge. "We're living together, so shouldn't we get to know each other?"

Renji was silent for an uncomfortably long moment, before he scowled and jabbed a finger at Starrk's chest. "Don't even fucking _think _about manipulating me," he warned, before he turned away and started heading back towards the office. The Primera's thin eyebrows shot up, and he stepped quickly after the redhead to match the man's long stride.

"And don't do it ta Rikichi, either!" Renji thought to shout over his shoulder a second later. "I know you're not stupid enough ta think you an' Grimmjow could really stage a revolt against the entire Gotei 13!"

Starrk just frowned as he followed Renji over the rooftops of Seireitei. "Manipulate? Did your opinion of me really lessen by that much after I told you about Aizen?"

Renji said nothing more, but his expression mirrored the Primera's.

"I. . .wanted to be honest with you in hopes that you'd realize I respect you, shinigami-san," Starrk finally admitted, sounding more sullen than he had a moment before. The other man's head jerked towards him, auburn gaze intent, but Starrk could only meet those hard eyes for a moment before he looked away and sighed.

"This isn't manipulation. I'm not looking for dirt I can use against you later; and I wouldn't want you to do anything you're not comfortable with, so forget I even asked. Honestly, I just wanted to see firsthand the environment that made you the person you are today. Making the grade for lieutenancy would be an impressive feat for anyone, but apparently _you _made it all the way from the slums. Not to mention that you're fuckutaichou for the very man you want to defeat. You think you're weak for losing to him, but really it says a lot that you're his fukutaichou to begin with-"

"_Okay!_"

The sudden boom of Renji's voice startled the Primera, but not more than the trace of color dusting the other man's cheekbone. Gray eyes widened, because _that _hadn't been there a moment ago, but otherwise the redhead's face still looked sternly unyielding.

So it came as a surprise when he finally muttered, "Not gonna make any promises, but I'll see what I can do."

* * *

_C'mon tell me that you're better and you'd rather just forget  
That things have gone so far  
Yeah tell me that you're better and you'd rather just forget_  
_That things have gone too far_

_You're all I see_  
_Sink into me_  
_Sharpen your teeth_  
_Sink into me_

_Sink into me (sink in, sink in)_

_Well I'd like to see our roles reversed_  
_To watch you hang on every word_  
_I'd like to see you have your way_  
_I keep my grammar well-rehearsed_  
_Correct each stutter, every slur_  
_Come on and have your way with me. . . _- "Sink Into Me" by Taking Back Sunday


	7. Chapter 6

_What should I do, I'm just a little baby  
What if the lights go out and maybe  
I just hate to be all alone  
Outside the door it followed me home  
Now goodnight moon I want the sun  
If it's not here soon I might be done  
No it won't be too soon 'til I say  
Goodnight moon. . ._ - "Goodnight Moon" by Shivaree

* * *

It took approximately three days before Renji found the time to meet the Primera's request. First he'd taken a day to think it over, then a second to get Byakuya's permission. And when he'd told his captain that he was thinking about taking the former Espada to Rukongai (the 78th district to be specific), he'd been met with a direct gaze that was searching. He'd explained, honestly, that Starrk seemed genuinely mystified that things called orphans actually existed; and once he'd mentioned orphans Byakuya's steely gaze had fallen to his paperwork, and he'd exhaled quietly before he mused, seemingly to himself, that if Coyote Starrk was to be staying in Soul Society for an extended period of time, then sooner or later he would likely come into contact with more than Seireitei.

He had also reasoned (offhandedly and much to the redhead's surprise), that it would be a good opportunity to test the Primera's true intentions.

Renji had been unable to tell if he was relieved that Byakuya didn't seem upset, or if _he _was upset that Byakuya hadn't put the kibosh on the whole thing. He was no longer sure how he was supposed to handle Coyote Starrk after everything that had happened between them in the past few days. From the startling kiss, to Aizen, to the frank flattery. . . Now he'd been given permission to be alone with the man in the place where he'd grown up?

In the two days leading up to it neither of them had mentioned Aizen, although Renji considered the subject far from resolved. It felt obvious to him that the Primera wanted to avoid the topic entirely, but he also suspected that Starrk knew he wouldn't be able to put it off forever. And despite Renji's discomfort regarding the matter, he'd felt weirdly. . ._worn out, _after everything the Arrancar had thrown his way. As consumed as he was by this idea that Coyote Starrk had been intimate with Aizen Sousuke, he'd ultimately decided that he'd give himself a break - or at least time to better wrap his head around the situation - before he dug deeper.

So they had both bypassed that particular situation, but it certainly hadn't been forgotten. A distinct tension had hung heavily between them, waiting to be dealt with properly, even if they both remained tight-lipped and reluctant to broach the subject a second time.

Actually, Renji had noticed that Starrk had become tight-lipped about pretty much _everything._ He'd still spoken to Renji easily enough, but mostly about things that the redhead had considered markedly _safe._ He no longer said much about himself, and even though he hadn't seemed to have a problem responding whenever the redhead addressed him, he still promptly fell asleep as soon as they returned to Renji's quarters. The difference in his behavior wasn't especially alarming, but the red-haired lieutenant couldn't help feeling that something was _off _all the same.

That Coyote Starrk had become. . .cautious, and uncharacteristically taciturn compared to the trusting straightforwardness he'd expressed before their first argument.

But the one thing that _really _struck Renji was this: while the former Espada had become reticent, he also hadn't moved into the living area like Renji thought he would have. Instead he'd stayed in the redhead's bedroom, and seemed perfectly content to do so despite everything else that would have suggested otherwise.

Renji realized it was the confusing contrast between Starrk's emotional distance and his physical nearness that bothered him more than anything. And while _that _was irritating him, it irritated him even more that the gray-eyed Arrancar seemed increasingly comfortable around Hisagi Shuuhei. Even though Starrk's nature remained inherently remote, and Hisagi's reasonably cautious after everything he'd been through, there still seemed to be a growing. . ._ease _whenever the scarred shinigami visited his tattooed comrade (which was often). And although the two weren't exactly _chummy, _the whole thing still got on Renji's nerves and pissed him off.

Especially when Hisagi had invited them for drinks again, and Starrk had actually _smiled _instead of looking unfazed like he had the first time. And it wasn't like it'd been disconcertingly wide with irrepressible enthusiasm, but it'd been haltingly _genuine _nonetheless, and the Primera's ashen eyes had lit up like a light going on inside.

Renji had felt like he'd been kicked in the heart, when he saw how fucking _gorgeous _the Arrancar's real smile could be, and realized that the first time seeing it was as a spectator and not the recipient. It hadn't been directed at _him,_ and the surprising _pang _he'd felt as result had been more alarming than the smile itself.

After that he hadn't wanted to accept his friend's invitation, but when Starrk simply looked at him and waited expectantly, he'd found himself saying Yes. Because the Arrancar had been unnervingly discreet that morning and the day before, and Renji had felt, in spite of himself, that the man needed to get out. That maybe he'd unwind somewhere new, and would start to feel better if he had a distraction from the awkwardness that had settled between them.

He'd made sure that Hisagi got them something to eat first. And had soon regretted it when something about the man's serious demeanor seemed to _amuse _the former Espada. Starrk had sat nearest Renji but spoke mostly to Renji's gregarious friend, and he'd actually _laughed _more than once - the first hesitant; the second surprised; and a third that was low and languid - at Hisagi's dry bearing (and, sometimes, his entertainingly spastic responses to things that took him off guard). The redhead had stewed silently as he watched the other two with narrowed eyes, and he'd gotten even more annoyed when Starrk looked maddeningly alluring (_again_) whenever he brought food to his mouth with lacquered chopsticks poised between gloved fingers.

Renji had been happy to get the hell out of there, and when they'd first arrived at the bar Starrk had ended up by Hisagi while the redhead ended up by Kira. Renji had observed them closely, but his irritation had started to abate when he noticed the Primera relaxing in the company of others. Although that hadn't lasted long, because a certain relentless Arrancar had shown up out of the blue that matched his hair. They'd been there no longer than an hour when Akon of the Twelfth had suddenly appeared behind Hisagi, and leaned over him while reaching around to place a cigarette between the man's lips. The horned man had looked strangely flushed, his normally pale skin warmer than usual, but his dark eyes had been brightly lucid when he stared into Hisagi's slanted grays.

And while Akon had emerged like a ghostly shadow, Grimmjow had pounced from nowhere and somehow managed to land successfully on Starrk's back despite the man being seated. The predatory Arrancar had pinned his legs on either side of the Primera, and his left arm had coiled around the man's shoulders while the other gripped Starrk's forehead. He'd looked like a giant constricter and had even _hissed _like one; piercingly loud with deadliness. Renji had been so startled that he nearly unsheathed Zabimaru, but something about the Sexta's energy thrummed with. . ._drunken playfulness._ And Kira had calmly stayed the redhead's hand, who'd stared at him wide-eyed before turning to watch the blue-haired Arrancar growl into the back of Starrk's head. The man's frosty blue eyes had looked to have melted, glassy and wet, as he pulled roughly on the other's dark hair and actually _licked _up his exposed throat.

Starrk, on the other hand, had looked surprised (and Renji couldn't fucking blame him after the unfriendly exchange the two Arrancar had had just two days before), but ultimately unresistant, busy as he was trying to drink his sake while Grimmjow clung to him. Meanwhile Hisagi had waved Akon's cigarette away, then narrowed his eyes at the offending Sexta when he'd groused irritably, "Get away from me."

It had seemed like everyone was unraveling under the influence of alcohol, with the exception of Renji. Kira had felt sleepily aware next to him, Shuuhei had become more agitated than he normally would have allowed, and clearly Akon and Grimmjow were already happily intoxicated. Grimmjow had grumbled something about wishful thinking on Hisagi's part - that he hadn't even noticed him in the first place, and was he _jealous _that Starrk was getting all the attention? - then slid sideways so he was sitting between the two dark-haired men as he threw his arms around their shoulders. Hisagi had looked increasingly hostile as the blue-haired Arrancar wagged his tongue suggestively, but in the next moment Grimmjow had turned a throaty snarl on Starrk, as he curled his fingers around the rim of the Primera's hollow hole and _clawed._

Starrk's next intake of breath had sounded so much like a hiss between his teeth that Renji had tensed as if he were the one in pain. He'd instinctively shouted "Hey!", but Grimmjow hadn't paid him any attention as his head fell back and his eyes rolled beneath drooping eyelids.

Akon had started running tobacco-stained fingers through the Sexta's hair, and Renji had just rolled his own eyes as he scooted over, squishing against Kira, and beckoned Starrk with two fingers. The former Espada had obeyed, but his eyes had been on the table in front of them when he sat down and pulled his uniform close to his hollow hole.

He had looked like he was going to be sick, but he had kept silent and so had Renji; who merely frowned deeply and ignored the unexplainable urge to rub the other's back.

Grimmjow and Akon had left soon after that. After yanking the Sexta's head back and kissing him upside down (and rubbing under his chin all the while), Akon had ruffled Hisagi's hair before he muttered, "Let's go," and wandered away in the crowd. And Grimmjow had grinned menacingly as he flipped them the bird, drawled, "Wasn't nice knowin' you fuckers," then quickly gathered snot at the back of his throat and spit into Hisagi's cup before he swung over the seat and disappeared.

Renji understood why his senpai couldn't stand the blue-haired Arrancar, and he felt he'd start feeling the same way if Grimmjow didn't stop fucking with Starrk.

They'd seen Kira back to the Third, and then Hisagi had seen Renji and Starrk back to the Sixth. The Primera had gone immediately to the bedroom upon their return, and Hisagi had arched a silently suggestive brow. But Renji had simply shaken his head to dismiss the implication, then told Hisagi that tomorrow he'd be taking Starrk to Rukongai.

And that's how, the following morning of the third day, Renji found himself winding an orange scarf of Oblivion around Coyote Starrk's neck. He couldn't take the Primera into Rukongai with his hollow mask and hollow hole in plain view, so he had to attempt covering them with a scarf that Hisagi had given him. And although the scarf was a deep, sunburnt orange instead of the silken white of nobility, it still felt strange as he tucked it into Starrk's uniform to cover his hollow hole, then adjusted the rest around the man's throat to make sure his hollow mask was completely concealed.

He was still trying to decide if they should change into civilian clothes to avoid bringing more attention to themselves than was necessary. The only problem was, he wasn't sure how well he could hide Zabimaru in civilian clothing. And although he didn't expect danger, he always had to be prepared in case there was.

So that meant leaving Zabimaru behind was not an option.

"Want me to come with?" he heard behind him, and he turned slightly to see Hisagi sitting on his futon, the man's legs spread wide as he leaned forward with his forearms on his knees. The man looked slightly worn out (Renji thought he'd probably had a little too much to drink the night before), but he still retained that air of level-headedness and professionalism.

Turning back around, the redhead tugged on the orange scarf a few more times and glanced into pale gray eyes. They were observing him directly - and curiously - as thin brows furrowed; presumably in response to Hisagi's suggestion.

"Guess a little extra security never hurt nobody," Renji drawled lazily, auburn eyes questioning as he watched the Primera. The man's mouth actually quirked downwards, and gray eyes sharpened as slender brows knit tighter.

"You can handle me by yourself, shinigami-san," Starrk quietly said. His voice was even like he was simply stating the obvious, but something about its soft tone seemed to insinuate something else that had the redhead feeling dangerously _warm._

Twisting around, Renji forced a lopsided grin as reached up to tighten his ponytail. "Thanks for the offer senpai, but I got this one."

The scarred shinigami looked knowing, and Renji thought that the other man really had no freaking clue anymore. No clue what Starrk had really been through, what he'd really done, and how it was messing with the lieutenant's head. Hisagi probably thought Renji just wanted time alone to flirt, but in reality it had become so much _more _than that.

It'd become wanting time alone with the Arrancar to talk seriously about private things, and. . .

. . .deep down, he just didn't want Starrk getting closer to Hisagi than he got to_ him. _And he'd been overwhelming _relieved _when the former Espada seemed put off (in his own quiet way) by the other man tagging along. The dark-haired Arrancar had become subtly distant and smiled at _Hisagi _when the guy invited them for drinks, but today he wanted to be alone with Renji?

The redhead couldn't help smirking triumphantly in spite of everything.

Hisagi's sloe-eyed gaze narrowed slightly - _probingly _- but he just smacked his hands against his knees before he stood up. "Have it your way if you're sure, Abarai." He started walking towards the door, then paused to glance in Starrk's direction. "I'd appreciate it if you didn't give him any trouble by trying to run away."

The Primera just arched his brow innocently, as he pinched the other man's scarf between two gloved fingers. "Is this mine now, shinigami-san?"

Dark gray eyes glanced down, then back up to meet those which were lighter. "If you want it."

"Then I'm not obligated to come back to Seireitei to return it to you."

Renji couldn't help snorting a surprised laugh, and Hisagi's gaze snapped to his before snapping back to the dark-haired Arrancar.

"What're you tryin' to say about my abilities, senpai?" the redhead asked loudly, planting his hands on his hips as he cocked one tattooed brow and edged his grin sharply. "Don't trust me ta keep this guy contained?"

"Well. . ." the other man mused slowly, his gaze distant as if he were thinking it over. Renji gave a squint, and Hisagi smiled briefly before turning on Starrk with a pointed forefinger.

"Now I want that scarf back, so don't lose it."

* * *

They'd spent at least an hour and a half hanging around Inuzuri before they found themselves walking along a reasonably deserted street that ran parallel to a wide river. The street was deserted because it was later in the day and the sun was starting to wane, but also because the area they were in wasn't heavily populated to begin with.

When Renji had first told Starrk the name of the 78th district that he'd grown up in, the Primera had stared at him with contemplative eyes. And the redhead had wondered if the man was thinking of himself when he heard "Howling Dog," or if he was thinking of Renji and how apt it was that his hometown was named as such; seeing as he knew that Renji had been an orphaned stray.

If it was the latter Renji would feel bothered, because Starrk couldn't fully understand what it was to be a child on its own, or how the redhead felt about being likened to strays after everything he'd been through.

But then again, Renji apparently didn't understand what it was to be a hollow on its own, or how the Primera felt about being a lone wolf after everything _he'd _been through. . .

But it was weird being back after so long, and not particularly comforting. He had ultimately decided not to bother with civilian clothes, but the prolonged stares soon had him regretting that decision. His gray-eyed companion hadn't seemed to notice, or if he did he chose to ignore it in favor of staring back brazenly with obvious curiosity.

Of course, he'd been especially interested in the children who ran around in rags and bare feet. He'd even talked to a few of them, but it wasn't until he gave a hunk of bread to a small blonde (who he'd taken a particular interest in) that Renji realized the former Espada was actually _stealing _just to feed little vagabonds. And when he'd asked the Primera what the hell he thought he was doing, the man had calmly said that if Renji could steal water as a kid, then he should have no problem stealing a little bread.

Renji had been dumbfounded, but knew it was pointless trying to explain that_ then and now_ were two completely different things- or that whether or not it was easy to do wasn't even the point. But he'd also been too busy trying to cypher through not only his feelings regarding Coyote Starrk _stealing _(and the implication that he was thoughtful enough to steal food for orphans in the first place), but the fact that he hadn't even _known _what the Primera had accomplished until he saw the evidence of the crime being stuffed into a small girl's eager little mouth.

He could have made a successful orphan himself, had he been born in Inuzuri instead of Hueco Mundo. . .

But needless to say, after that Renji had dragged Starrk away from people he could steal from, and that's how they'd ended up by the river. Now the dark-haired man was watching the water, dark with dusk, as it calmly drifted along. There was a long moment's silence that the Arrancar seemed comfortable with, but Renji was secretly racking his brain for something to say; other than telling Starrk again that he couldn't just go around stealing shit, even if it was for a noble cause.

It was that particular train of thought that had Renji glancing at the Primera with slightly wide eyes. A noble cause. . . The camellia on Starrk's chest was there for one very specific reason, yet Renji was starting to think that maybe it inadvertently represented more than suppression. The Sixth's camellia stood for noble reason, and Coyote Starrk, whether he fucked around with Aizen Sousuke or not, still had a certain nobility about him that continued to perplex Renji with its unexpectedness. The Primera was an Arrancar, yet he didn't want to fight because he seemed to think it unnecessary. He was an Arrancar with no obligation to the shinigami who were once his enemy (and now caging him in), yet he had abandoned Rikichi to keep the kid out of Grimmjow's indiscriminate crosshairs. And as an Arrancar he should have no real concept of children or hunger, yet he found it in him to steal food for orphans he hardly knew.

Staring at the former Espada, Renji frowned and wondered why the man had to cheapen himself in Aizen's bed of all people.

"There's a dog."

The sudden and uncharacteristic attentiveness of Starrk's voice had the redhead turning his gaze. There really was a dog, standing a good twenty feet down the street, cautiously distant as it observed them (just like anything else that lived in the lower districts). He and the Primera stared back silently, until Starrk crouched down and slowly took off his left glove.

And Renji was officially wide-eyed, especially when Starrk extended his arm and the redhead saw the tattooed "1" on the back of his hand.

So_ that's _what he'd been hiding all this time. . .

. . .and something about that long-awaited reveal felt almost as intimate as seeing someone completely naked.

Starrk whistled, and wiggled his fingers imploringly at the watchful hound. Renji knew the thing was a mutt without having to look, but when he did it also appeared reasonably well-fed for an Inuzuri stray. Damned thing had to be smart _and _relentless to sustain that kind of weight.

But they had all needed to be smart and relentless if they wanted to survive Inuzuri.

The Primera whistled again, and the mutt slowly inched its way closer, creeping low to the ground. Until it suddenly started moving surprisingly fast, its eyes intent on Starrk, and Renji watched it closely but remained still so as not to startle it. His eyes were narrowed when he murmured, "Watch out. Most dogs around here are feral. They'll easily take your hand right off."

"He's fine," the Arrancar murmured back, even as he curled his fingers into his palm so the stray had to sniff the flat surface of his knuckles. Its splotched nose bobbed along Starrk's hand, and Renji found himself holding his breath until a tentative tongue appeared to test Starrk's flesh.

"See?"

Shifting sideways, Starrk fell back so he was sitting on his ass. The stray jerked back in response to the man's abrupt movement, but Starrk seemed undeterred as he crossed his legs and rubbed his thigh invitingly. The mutt observed him cautiously for a beat, then a moment later it was on him in a flash, turning in a circle before it collapsed on top of him.

Renj's eyes widened. "What're you, the fuckin' dog whisperer?"

Starrk glanced up at him and looked mildly bemused. "I don't know. There's one dog who seems insusceptible to my charms."

Auburn eyes narrowed. "I'm no dog."

The other man simply stared at him, then smiled slightly as he rubbed the side of the real dog resting in his lap. "I like how you assume I was talking about you. . ."

Renji felt himself reddening, but he tried covering it with crossed arms and a hard squint. "Well who else could it be? Not like you've run into many dogs around Seireitei."

"Komamura-taichou didn't even notice me, and I had my whole pack howling," Starrk seemed to pout, his frown soft as he looked up at the other man with dejected eyes. The redhead stared back, and slowly understood that the Primera was actually _teasing _him.

Smirking faintly, he crouched down beside the former Espada and draped his arms over his knees. "Aaaan' I don't think Komamura-taichou would appreciate being thought of as a dog. You also weren't howling, just gaping like a moron."

Starrk leaned back on his hand and let his head rest against his shoulder. "It's a sense, shinigami-san. It doesn't actually need to be _heard; _just felt. I'm sure that's how he ended up here, when he could've gone anywhere else."

Renji realized Starrk was referring to the Inuzuri mutt. Glancing down, he got his first good look at the thing since it'd first shown up. This close he could see that its right eye was blue, and its left a deep honey brown. There was a large russet spot that encircled that darker eye, and its left ear was drooped while the right stood rigidly erect. The rest of its coat was white and spotted sporadically with dots of ginger, and its tail curled a bobbing spiral above its back.

"So is that how Aizen found you? Sensed you howlin' at the moon? Seein' as he was, apparently, another lone wolf?"

He knew beforehand that the lightness of their conversation would immediately be weighed down. Starrk's stroking hand slowed, and Renji studied his downcast gaze and what appeared to be a carefully impassive expression.

"Maybe it's how you found me in the Vizard's basement," the Arrancar speculated after a moment. Renji had already known that Starrk wouldn't want to discuss Aizen after what had happened before, but he hadn't anticipated the man turning the conversation back to him; and in such a way that implied he'd been drawn to the Primera because he'd sensed his inaudible howl.

"You know," Starrk continued suddenly, "that stray dogs are like lone wolves? They exist to be alone." He glanced at Renji meaningfully, and the redhead found himself uneasy as he narrowed his eyes.

"What're you tryin' to say?"

"That we've been getting along so well."

_Sarcasm. _And Renji frowned as old frustrations from a few nights before began stirring anew.

"So, what you're _really _saying is things didn't work out between you and your precious _Aizen-sama_ 'cause you were both lone wolves, and destined ta be alone despite wanting ta be together? Now you wanna insinuate _we _can't get along 'cause I'm some stray dog whose also destined ta be alone? That we're _living _together but still existing alone?"

"It isn't like we're living together because it's what we chose. You're simply doing as taichou-san instructed-"

"Fucking semantics! That wasn't your point ta begin with, so don't focus on it now in an effort ta throw me off."

"But it is the point. We're living together but you and I aren't actually- _together._ We aren't friends, we aren't bonded, we don't understand one another. It's obvious that you've been looking at me differently since I told you about my relationship with Aizen. I also know this is simply a task you feel obligated to fulfill, but I wouldn't hold it against you if what _you _wanted was a transfer. Never mind what_ taichou-san _wants you to do."

Tattooed brows furrowed as Renji stared disbelievingly at the other man. He couldn't fucking _believe _Coyote Starrk was _trying to_ _get rid of him._ That he was trying to stage a separation, and acting as if it was all _Renji's _doing. It was true that he'd started looking differently at the Primera after he'd found out about Aizen, but how could Starrk blame him? What did he expect from someone who'd had to defend themselves and their friends against Aizen's heartless assault? It wasn't Renji's fault Starrk had been stupid enough to fuck Aizen fucking Sousuke; and for all his disgust, Renji thought he'd handled the whole thing better than he'd had to. He'd kept feeding the bastard, had let him sleep in his fucking bedroom, and even took him to Rukongai just like he'd wanted. If none of that said "We'll handle your fucking careless indiscretion like two fucking adults," then he didn't know what fucking would.

"I _know _you're not really trying ta get away from me," he said with incredulous indignation. "Not when you've spent your whole life workin' _not _ta be alone. There's no fuckin' way you'd actually want me to transfer you."

"You make it sound like I've been so desperate that just anyone would do."

"And what the fuck is _that _s'posed ta mean?" Renji snapped angrily. "That you'll happily align yourself with _Aizen _but living with _me _is an insult? That you'll fall in love with the bastard who threw you inta war and _used _you, but the guy who kindly feeds you, an' takes you drinking, an' does what you ask even though he doesn't fuckin' _have _to, is 'just anyone' you _don't _need ta be with? Even though you're apparently _so fucking lonely_ that you'd accept _Aizen?_ Well guess what jackass, accepting a psycho like Aizen Sousuke _is _the lowest fucking desperation I've ever fucking heard of!"

Things suddenly went dangerously quiet, and Renji simply stared - chest heaving faintly - at gray eyes that were wide with an emotion he hadn't seen in them before. And when he realized that unfamiliar reaction was _hurt,_ his gut twisted and his hands clenched into fists. Fuck, _what was this feeling_ _between them, _and why did it always turn _sour _when he just wanted it to be sweet?

"What I meant," Starrk began after a moment, low and tight, "is that lately I've realized my need to be with others has lead me nowhere good. And maybe it's time I _was _alone, because when I'm not only bad things happen. Those around me always end up getting hurt. First my friends died just from being around me, and the next time I found companions I ended up in a war. Now there's you, and I've messed that up too, and I really can't stomach you looking down on me. So I'm letting you know I won't hold it against you if you want me transferred. I could stay with Aizen because he didn't care one way or the other what kind of people we were. It's hard to judge a tool beyond its usefulness, so his judgement regarding us was limited to our performance in battle. And even though I wasn't a fighter and couldn't be proud of being ranked Primera when my power had already caused me so much pain, I was at least an asset to him.

"And that's why things are different for you and I. You're judging who I am as a person, and it feels lonelier to be openly disliked for who I am than it does to be used. At least when you're used it's because you have something that's valuable to someone else. Before Aizen I'd mattered to no one because there _was _no one, and I'd come to despise myself for having no control over my own power. I couldn't stop myself from destroying the things I cared about, but then Aizen appeared and he actually desired me for the very thing I'd come to hate. It was morbid, but at that point it was the only thing I could have besides Lilynette. You can think of him as an egomaniacal sociopath, and he was, but he made me feel wanted even though I was a monster. You just remind me that no one in their right mind would actually want a monster, unless they were one themselves."

Renji was struck speechless as if his tongue had been sucker-punched right out of his mouth. Even his brain was having trouble processing everything Starrk had just said, and it skipped like a broken record on that last sentence that stabbed him straight through the heart.

Before he could gather his thoughts to speak, the Primera was suddenly coming to a stand. The dog sitting in his lap jerked to its feet and ended up backing straight into Renji in its eagerness to get out of Starrk's way. Its wagging tail whacked the redhead right in the face, and he sputtered as he reflexively smacked it away.

Then there was a bark, only it wasn't directed at Renji. It was directed at the dark-haired Arrancar who was currently shrugging his uniform off his shoulders and pulling his arms free of the sleeves.

The redhead's eyes widened as he pushed the dog aside so its backside was no longer in his face. "What're you doing?"

"Deserts aren't known for having water, and I need to cool down," Starrk informed him, as he stood there with his lean torso exposed. He didn't look at Renji as he quickly undid his obi and toed out of his waraji at the same time. A moment later and his hakama was pooling around his feet, before he dropped the top half of his uniform and unwound the scarf around his neck. He then stepped out of his hakama and bent down to pull his tabi off.

And Renji officially stood corrected, because seeing Starrk's bare hand _wasn't _as intimate as seeing the man in nothing but ass-baring fundoshi. . .

But he could hardly appreciate the view after the heavy shit the Primera had just dumped all over him. Not to mention that the man had just discarded the scarf that was meant to conceal his fucking identity.

"What if someone sees you?" Renji hissed as he glanced around, flustered enough to disregard their conversation for the time being. "Your hollow hole is plain as freaking day!"

"Doesn't look like anyone's around to see it," Starrk observed dismissively. "I'll be in the water anyway."

Without another word the Primera slid gracefully down the riverbank, his arms extended for balance, before stepping into the water. It splashed around him violently in response to his abrupt intrusion, and within a few seconds it was up to his waist, then obscuring him completely when he dove under.

_Fuck. _Renji's mind was still reeling and he had no fucking idea what to think or where even to begin. The Inuzuri mutt had sat down beside him after Starrk left, and he heard it whine unhappily as it flattened itself against the ground and covered its muzzle with its two front paws.

Didn't he fucking know it. . .

He'd basically been told that he made Starrk feel _worse _than Aizen ever had. He'd been told he was _fucking worse than Aizen!_ Renji would have been insulted if he didn't just feel fucking horrible. He already knew he could be a prick, but he hadn't known he could rival _Aizen Sousuke. _Fucking hell!

He also couldn't get over Aizen being the first one to make Coyote Starrk feel _wanted._ The Primera's loneliness had already been drilled into his head, but he'd really never been desired before Aizen? Renji honestly found that hard to believe, because, well, Coyote Starrk was fucking flawless as far as looks went, and one of his friends _had _to have found him attractive before they died.

Well, speaking of morbid. . .

Renji groaned and rubbed his hands over his face. The thin skin of his lower lids stretched when he slid his hands down his cheeks, and he stared at the river as he waited for Coyote Starrk to reappear. Despite what the Primera thought, Renji _was_ sympathetic to his plight. Of course he'd been _rightfully _alarmed when he'd first found out, because he'd had a hard time understanding why someone as peaceful as Coyote Starrk would choose- the complete fucking _opposite _of himself, basically. But. . .given the Primera's unique situation. . .

Renji also reminded himself that even though Starrk had slept with a crazy bastard, _he'd _yet to act by the same token. He hadn't done anything harmful to Renji or any of the other shinigami he came into contact with, and he'd even gone out of his way to protect Rikichi from Grimmjow and feed starving orphans.

Did he really deserve Renji's hostility when he'd done nothing but be diplomatic and accommodating?

Right then something suddenly broke the water, and Renji jumped at the startling sound. There was a flash of brown as Starrk whipped his head back, a spray of water trailing him, and then long-fingered hands smoothing down his hair before they gathered it together and wrung it out. His back was to the riverbank so the redhead couldn't see his face, and he was far enough away that Renji wasn't sure if he'd be heard when he stood up and yelled, "I wanted you!"

The Primera turned slightly to see over his shoulder. Even at that distance Renji could see the man's one eye, blown wide and looking impossibly gray and hauntingly _disturbed._ That one look seemed to be _howling _so many things - even more than the words from his mouth - and Renji was finally starting to understand that underneath that deceptively languid exterior there existed someone who was deeply troubled.

That those gray eyes were not simply _eyes,_ but a reflection of stale monotonous surroundings and an existence between shades of gray. Although Hueco Mundo itself was black and white, Starrk's personal experiences had been stained _gray;_ and therefore his perception of fuckers like Aizen Sousuke had been seen not through_ rose_-colored glasses, as the saying went, but _gray_-colored glasses.

And now Renji felt it was up to him to fling _his _color at those deceptively gray shades, that had done nothing but promote _blindness._

To paint them rose like they were meant to be.

"_I _wanted you," he said again, quieter this time, but no less assured.

"Past tense would suggest that's come and gone," the other man observed softly.

Renji didn't bother taking his uniform off before he slid down the riverbank. The hound behind him barked, but he ignored that too as he entered the water and quickly waded further until he was able to stretch onto his stomach and swim forward.

He realized as he got closer that he'd been hurdling dangerously close to falling in love with Coyote Starrk, and that it'd had a lot to do with the anger he'd felt once he learned the truth about the man's sexual history. First he'd been hurt and angered that his tattoos reminded Starrk of someone else who'd had similar markings, and then he'd become _resentful _that _Aizen _of all people had played such a pivotal role.

That_ he'd _beaten Renji to it; had taken advantage of Starrk's vulnerable heart, and twisted a unique nobility that loneliness had weakened.

"I wanted you so badly it drove me crazy whenever I thought you fantasized about groping tits, when _I _wanted ta be groped by you," the redhead confessed, watching the dark-haired Arrancar watch him as he swiftly closed the distance between them. Starrk's pretty eyes had gone wide, but otherwise he was hard to read as he slowly drifted _away _from the approaching redhead.

"So I asked you about it 'cause I had ta know who'd it'd been before me," Renji went on. "I had ta know what kinda girl she'd been. If she was pretty, if you loved her, how stuck you really were to think of her when you looked at porno mags. But then you told me 'bout Aizen instead, made it sound like you _loved _him 'cause he comforted you, and I fucking _was _jealous- but mostly just hurt 'cause I couldn't understand why someone like you would settle for a bastard like him."

He was finally close enough to snatch Starrk's wrist, so the man couldn't drift away like he'd been trying to. He held on tight as he pulled the Primera back to him, and stared boldly into the other's disbelieving eyes.

"I wanted ta think someone like you deserved better than Aizen, and then I'd started ta think that maybe you didn't deserve better than what you were willing to accept, 'specially if it was somethin' that fuckin' low."

Starrk's slender brows furrowed, and Renji's tongue swept his bottom lip as his thumb grazed the other man's arm.

"But no one deserves ta be used. And you shouldn't mistake his wanting you for somethin' _real,_ 'cause what he wanted from you was something you weren't even comfortable with. Whether he really desired you or not, he didn't actually _respect _what you wanted. And what a person really needs - what they really _deserve _- is someone who loves 'em just the way they are. Someone who won't push 'em to fight when they're sick of their power hurting others."

For a moment Starrk didn't respond; just stared at Renji with his strikingly almond-shaped eyes.

"Most other Arrancar aren't looking for that sort of thing in Hueco Mundo, so you'll take what you can get from a shinigami who isn't much different, but at least strong enough to stick around. He also professed to be an ally, and that _was _rare among hollows. Even if we found out later that it wasn't completely sincere."

Renji frowned slightly, but simply said, "You're not in Hueco Mundo anymore," as he held the Primera's gaze.

Thin brows furrowed faintly, and Renji slowly slid his fingers over Starrk's wet skin as he pulled the man's left hand towards him. Their legs tangled as they both tread water, and the redhead found he didn't dislike the feeling as he looked at Starrk's bare skin.

And it was smooth and lightly tanned even though it rarely saw the sun, and his fingers were long and finely-boned. . .

" 's this why you were gloves?" Renji questioned as he glanced into Starrk's eyes, and brushed his fingers over the inked 1 on the back of the Primera's hand. " 'cause you don't feel like showin' off your number like Grimmjow does?"

The Arrancar's hand seemed to tremble slightly, and his eyes held fast to Renji's fingers when he murmured, "Grimmjow is the exception. The rest of us concealed our ranks."

Renji arched his brow as he continued stroking Starrk's tattoo. "So why're you still concealing it? 's not like you have anyone to surprise anymore. We already know you're the Primera."

"Well, when you put it that way. . . I guess it's just become a habit."

"Your hands gotta get hot."

"It feels hotter like this," Starrk objected as he quickly pulled his hand free. Renji's jagged brow arched in mild surprise, and the other's hand disappeared back beneath the water.

"They're sensitive to touch," he explained shortly, and the tattooed lieutenant found himself slowly grinning as he glanced at the dark water between them and searched blindly for that hand once more.

"Well now you're just teasin' me. . . Are your hollow holes sensitive too? When Grimmjow grabbed yours last night. . ."

". . .they are. It can be painful when someone's too rough."

Renji finally found what he desired, and he quickly grasped Starrk's hand so he could skirt his fingers lightly over the palm. The Primera's face quickly became intriguingly flushed, and Renji's eyes drooped as he brought that sensitive hand to his mouth and pressed his lips to Starrk's palm. And when the man's chiseled cheekbones reddened significantly, and his slender brows furrowed as if he were in pain, the redhead found himself overwhelmed with feeling as he pulled Starrk into a comforting hug.

"If I really wanted you transferred we wouldn't be here right now," he mumbled against the man's kinked hair. "You'd already be stuck with another division an' another bastard shinigami."

There was a moment's silence, and the former Espada felt tense with hesitation in Renji's arms. So the red-haired lieutenant just squeezed tighter, and tentatively smoothed his hand over Starrk's bare back.

"You're not a bastard," the Arrancar finally murmured, breath close to Renji's ear. And the redhead's mouth twitched a smile as his fingers gently bunched the Primera's skin.

"I don't think you're bein' honest with me, but I'll take a compliment where I can get it. You're not a monster either, y'know?"

"Now who's being dishonest."

Starrk's voice sounded close to a quiet laugh, although one that'd likely be humorless. Leaning back slightly so he could see the other's face, Renji remained holding him as he rubbed his knuckles under Starrk's chin.

"If I'd met you during the war, I would've tried to kill you and I wouldn't have given two shits about your life story," he admitted, as he thought about the time he'd said that very thing to Szayel Aporro Granz. "D'ya understand what that means?"

The dark-haired Arrancar frowned slightly as he glanced past Renji's shoulder. "That. . .you really are kind of an asshole, and I really am a monster?"

Renji laughed at Starrk's feigned ignorance. "No. Yes. No you're not and yes I'm no better than any other asshole for treating the enemy like they weren't even a person. But it's a two-way street, and my point is, we both had to do things back then that we don't gotta do now, so let's stop beating each other up over it. Just have the fuckin' self-preservation to pick better fuckbuddies next time, will you? Don't you know that being naive will get you fuckin' killed?"

"You don't really develop a sense of self-preservation when nothing's ever threatened you before," the Primera reasoned earnestly; and Renji looked back and forth between pale gray eyes as he tried to understand how Starrk wouldn't know to be cautious, because he'd always been the strongest thing out there.

At least until Aizen Sousuke came along, anyway.

"You an' me really are at opposite ends of the spectrum. . ."

"Is that good or bad?"

"Keeps me thinking, that's for sure," Renji mumbled, eyes falling to glimpse the other man's mouth. His arms tightened against Starrk's lean torso, and he met the man's gaze a second time with heavy-lidded intent.

"Didn't wanna ruin the mood earlier, but your dick's been diggin' into my hip this whole time."

Starrk actually laughed as he glanced away. "I warned you that my hands are sensitive, so, proceed at your own risk, and all that. . ."

Renji just smiled faintly and pulled the Primera tight so he could nudge the other's nose with his own. Soft eyes met his once more, and he stared into them briefly before lightly brushing his lips against Starrk's. He felt more than heard Starrk's sharp intake of breath, when the man's chest jumped against his own.

Imagining the Primera's sensually long canines, Renji pressed deeper; and used the other's inhale to his advantage as he teased his tongue between parted lips. When those lips actually closed around his tongue - like a _hug _- and sucked lightly, he ended up groaning loudly as he scratched down Starrk's back. The Arrancar arched against him with a moan of his own, and Renji angled his head to deepen the kiss as he sucked Starrk's tongue into his mouth. His hands were drifting dangerously low on Starrk's svelte waist, fingers brushing fabric, and he decided to grab the moment by the proverbial balls as he aimed for something else in that general vicinity.

There was a hoarse gasp against his mouth when he grabbed Starrk's ass. It was round and deliciously _firm _in his hands, and he answered that gasp with a throaty growl as his fingers squeezed and pulled the Primera's hips flush against his own.

He remembered telling Coyote Starrk the first day they'd met that no one had grabbed him by the balls hard enough to get him motivated the way he needed to be. And _now, _whether it was balls or ass, Renji felt the evidence of "motivation" as it jerked against him, then rubbed with a slow fervor that had him clawing down Starrk's ass and onto his thighs so he could get those lean legs around his waist.

The balls themselves he'd get to, he told himself absently, as he nibbled on Starrk's lower lip before tasting the upper with the flat of his tongue. He'd get to them _now, _as his right hand slid back up, under the Primera's thigh. . .eager fingers slipping inside Starrk's fundoshi to brush that silken sack of need. . .

Starrk broke away with another rasping gasp, and Renji stilled as he considered the man's overcome expression, and wondered if he'd gone too far too soon. Gray eyes were wide, pupils blown, and skin was deeply flushed. And as the moment stretched and Renji really started to think that he'd crossed the line, he felt Starrk's hand cup his face, wet with water and enticingly _naked _as the man's thumb rubbed his cheek.

He had wondered, with apprehension, what kind of lover Coyote Starrk could be if he'd been with a man like Aizen Sousuke. But the Arrancar's tender first kiss, and his overall gentleness around others, had put Renji at ease enough to take a chance. And now. . .

Now he shuddered beneath the Primera's caring touch, and his hands groped any skin within reach as he tried to pull Starrk even closer than he already was. Their mouths collided a second later, and Starrk's legs tightened around his waist with crushing force as the man pressed up. Suddenly wet hands were tangled in Renji's hair, and his head was yanked back as the dark-haired Arrancar leaned over him so he could assume control.

Renji's eyes fluttered as he groaned, simply hanging on as Starrk dominated his mouth with an aggressive tongue and nipping teeth.

"I- _wow_. . . " the redhead managed to pant breathlessly when the Primera finally broke away for air. Starrk said nothing in response, and Renji found himself staring up into dilated eyes that stared back with hungry excitement. " 's getting dark out. . ." he tried again, wetting his kiss-swollen lips as he slowly ran his hands over Starrk's ass. "We should head back sometime soon. . ."

The former Espada still said nothing, but his eager eyes had softened as he pressed a kiss to the tip of Renji's nose, then leaned back in for another from his mouth. Softly, slowly, and the redhead felt like whining as his heart hammered in his chest. His tattooed brow screwed tight and he squeezed the other man just as strong, as he sealed their kiss with an unspoken promise that even he didn't know the details of.

They broke apart and Starrk sagged slightly as he pressed their foreheads together and closed his eyes. They were silent with nothing but the sound of their calming breaths, and Renji went cross-eyed staring at the other man's face, before glancing around at the darkening sky and the even darker water.

"Uh, so. . . Like I said, gettin' dark out. . . Hey, don't even think I'm gonna carry you all the way back!"

"But I'm tired now," the other man murmured, tilting his head slightly to bump their noses, before he lazily kissed Renji's top lip.

"I've been treading water for the both of us this whole time," the redhead protested huskily, though there wasn't much heart behind it when he was distracted by the Primera's slender body curled around his own, and the man's warm breath caressing his mouth. Normally cool eyes that were currently heated with arousal stared into his own, past dark lashes, and held his gaze as parted lips teased his quietly panting mouth.

_Fuck _but the former Espada had become unstoppable, and the shinigami lieutenant felt he could do nothing but moan helplessly as he kissed back and tried not to weasel his hands back into Starrk's fundoshi.

He was rapidly losing the battle, and that's when he remembered something else he'd thought when he first met Coyote Starrk: wake the sleeping bear. . .and you didn't get razor sharp teeth and claws, but an insatiably horny beast of unforeseen sexiness?

It took all his willpower to gently push Starrk away, even if his hands slid and lingered over the man's sides, and his mouth hovered close for more.

"I'll fall asleep and drown," the Arrancar avowed half-heartedly, as his hands slid down Renji's shoulders. The redhead stared dazedly at the other's languid eyes, then quickly pulled him back to kiss the fucking life out of him.

They were gasping for air when Renji decided it was enough, and he managed a breathless smile as he tangled their fingers together and swam backwards.

"No you won't, 'cause I got'chyou wide awake now."

And it really seemed true, because even though Starrk's eyelids were lazily drooped, the eyes they concealed within looked bright with responsiveness as he followed Renji. The red-haired lieutenant smiled more as he teased Starrk's palms with his fingertips, then pulled the man towards him so their faces were dangerously close. The Primera leaned in first, and they kissed briefly before Renji had to break away so he didn't get caught up in it all over again.

Turning around, he squeezed Starrk's left hand one more time before he let go so he could actually swim efficiently. As they got closer to the riverbank he realized the Inuzuri mutt was still waiting for them there, its tongue hanging out happily as its tail wagged.

"Renji-san."

The tattooed lieutenant nearly got whiplash, he'd turned his head around so quickly.

And the sheer breadth of his smile actually _hurt._

"Yeah?"

"I'd like to keep the stray."

That wasn't what Renji had expected, and his auburn eyes widened before he laughed. "I think I oughtta feel insulted that you got a death wish even after I kissed ya," he drawled teasingly. "Or at least insulted that I ain't good enough company on my own."

Starrk just smiled softly, but its sincerity warmed Renji regardless.

"But you're the stray I've wanted from the start, shinigami-san."

* * *

_Oh, come dance with me  
Over murder and pain_

_Come set you free_  
_Over heartache and shame_

_I wanna see our bodies burning like the old big sun  
I wanna know what we've been learning and learning from. . ._ - "Man On Fire [Little Daylight Remix]" by Edward Sharpe & The Magnetic Zeros


End file.
